Once a Scoundrel

by Mary Jo Putney

  “Learning,” she said promptly. “Travel. Seeing places very different from my homeland. I adore maps and globes. The best present I ever received was a globe two feet across and beautifully detailed. It’s still in my bedroom back home.”

  “Who knew you well enough to give you such a gift?”

  “My aunt, Lady Diana Lawrence. She’s my godmother and my parents say I’m far too much like her. She’s a happy spinster who has traveled widely and seen wonderful things. She’s currently living in India, which is half the reason I wished to visit.”

  He chuckled. “The other half being the temples and ruins?”

  She nodded. “Exactly. The three of us, Aunt Diana, Constance, and I, had a marvelous time seeing the great sights of Northern India. So much grandeur and history! But I wish I hadn’t convinced Constance we needed to visit Greece.”

  “I’m told Greece is one of the world’s grandest destinations.”

  “Oh, it was! With the wars over, it seemed like a good time to visit. But if we’d sailed home from India to England, around the Cape of Good Hope, Constance and I wouldn’t be here.” She made an eloquent gesture that encompassed Algiers, her captivity, and the whole Barbary Coast. “We also thought it would be interesting to take the overland route up the Red Sea, across Egypt, and then across the Mediterranean to Greece. We were captured on the voyage from Athens to London.”

  “No one could have predicted that. British shipping in the Mediterranean is usually safe from the Barbary pirates.”

  “Usually, but not always.” She sighed, her gaze on two goats who were playfully butting their heads together. “And now I’m facing a possible lifetime in a harem, which is surely the most constricting prison of all.”

  “Most women live constrained lives,” he said quietly. “It takes courage and imagination to break free of the shackles as you’ve done, and you surely will again.”

  “It’s easier to avoid constraint if one comes from a family with money,” she said. “Though the Lawrence exchequer isn’t sufficient to pay an extortionate ransom for me, there has been enough for me to live independently and to travel.”

  “When you are freed, will you continue your travels?”

  “Thank you for saying when, not if. As for the traveling. . .” She hesitated. “I love the places I’ve seen, the people I’ve met, but it’s rather tiring to always have to be figuring out how to do things in a strange land and a strange language. The thought of living in England sounds peaceful and appealing now.”

  “As long as you’re not constrained,” he said with a smile.

  “Precisely. If and when I’m free again, I might be a little more cautious, but I’ll still be Roaring Rory, the most eccentric twig on the Lawrence family tree. I don’t think I have it in me to be staid.”

  “Traveling as you have done is unusual, but are you truly outrageous? Do you sometimes scandalously wear men’s clothing?” he asked curiously.

  “That’s not outrageous, merely practical when doing things that require agility.” She hesitated, then gazed up at him with a mixture of shyness and teasing. “Can you keep a secret?”

  Chapter 5

  “I’m quite good at keeping secrets,” Gabriel said, amusement in his eyes. “But if you’ve been madam of a house of ill repute in Bombay, someone else will surely carry the news back to London.”

  She laughed as she hadn’t for . . . far too long. Gabriel radiated a quiet strength and protection that let her relax enough to laugh again. “Nothing that outrageous! My guilty secret is that I’ve always loved reading and writing. When I started to travel, I found I wanted to tell stories set in the places we visited. So I began writing the kind of Gothic adventure romances that are scorned by all folk of education and refinement.”

  He grinned. “That might horrify high sticklers, but it sounds like great fun.”

  “It is! Constance and I work together because we’ve found that it’s an excellent way of passing time on long sea voyages. I do most of the actual writing, but we discuss ideas together and she edits me, pointing out when I become too outrageous even by our standards. She also writes out the finished copy in her beautiful handwriting, and because she’s a fine artist, she draws illustrations. Her pictures of the people and the exotic settings really enrich the stories.”

  Looking genuinely interested, he said, “I’d buy such a book. Have you had any published?”

  “I don’t think they’re publishable because my heroines are not beautiful, simpering maidens who need rescue,” she explained. “This is where I become truly outrageous. My heroines are bold adventurers. One is a lady privateer who wears breeches and carries a cutlass. Another is a warrior queen in a desert kingdom, leading her people to defend their freedom. One is a thief, though for a noble cause.” She grinned as she thought fondly of her heroines. “They aren’t at all ladylike. Sometimes they rescue the hero. Sometimes hero and heroine rescue each other.”

  “They sound like women I’d like to know,” he said thoughtfully. “What are your heroes like?”

  “Oh, shockingly handsome, of course! Possibly a great lord in disguise, though not a duke, because my experience of them is not romantic.”

  “Portly, boring, and snuff-stained,” Gabriel said gravely.

  “Exactly. My characters invariably meet when she is being outrageously unladylike. He is intrigued and attracted, and he’s so confident that he is never upset by a woman’s strength. He can be dangerous, but also kind. And most importantly, he has a flexible enough mind to accept her differences and that’s the reason he’s so attracted to her.” After a pause, she added, “Sometimes it takes him a while to become that tolerant.”

  Gabriel smiled, his eyes warm. “That’s understandable. I’m sure such stories aren’t for everyone, but I don’t know that they’re unpublishable.”

  She caught her breath as she fell into that warmth. It occurred to her that Captain Gabriel Hawkins was rather like one of her romantic heroes. He was strong, he was kind, he seemed very tolerant of her outrageousness, and she suspected that he could be very dangerous. And though not shockingly handsome, he was a very fine-looking man. She studied his broad, powerful shoulders. Very fine looking indeed.

  Pulling her distracted thoughts together, she said, “That’s what my Aunt Diana said after she read one of our stories when we were in India. She liked it so much that she asked to read the rest. Constance and I were flattered, of course. She said they were well written and entirely worthy of publication and said she’d send the stories to a publisher she knows in London. We listed the author as ‘Countess Alexander’ rather than our own names. If the publisher is mad enough to want to put our work out to the world, that might spare the family some embarrassment.”

  “Because the stories combine romance, travelogue, and adventure, they could appeal to a broad audience,” he said seriously.

  “Do you think so?” she asked, wanting to believe that. Then she noticed how Malek was watching them, even as he talked to his servant, to make sure they weren’t doing anything unacceptable like plotting escape. Brought back to reality, she said with an edge of bitterness, “If we don’t escape from Barbary, we might never know even if the books are published.”

  “You will be free,” he said firmly. “Perhaps you’ll return to England and find your books the talk of London.”

  “That’s a lovely fantasy.” She bit her lip. “Constance and I have needed our fantasies in order not to be driven mad with fear about what might happen. A much more modest dream is to escape and find a nice cottage where we can write stories together, though I’d have to make them less outrageous if I ever want to sell any.”

  “We all need dreams to survive,” he said quietly. “Since it’s a dream, don’t tame your heroines. They inspire hope.”

  “I agree,” she said regretfully. “But if—when—I am free again, I must be practical if I mean to support myself.”

  “Rather than change the existing books, you could write new ones,”
he suggested. “A pair of beautiful ladies captured by Barbary pirates would be a good subject for a story and it might be easier to start afresh than to change a story you’ve finished.”

  “You might be right. If I change the heroine in an existing story, I also have to change the hero and other characters, and the plot as well.” She made a face. “Easier to start anew. Actually, we’ve been working on a Barbary captive story since we were taken. I’ll see if I can make my heroine better behaved. The hero is not a corsair! There is nothing romantic about being captured!”

  “I couldn’t agree with you more,” he said grimly.

  Hearing darkness in his voice, she said, “You know my story now. What is yours?”

  His relaxation vanished, and his gaze went to the goats. Rory remembered that her heroes tended to be mysterious about their past, and information had to be dragged out of them. Though it could be intriguing in a fictional hero, it was somewhat annoying in real life. Not that she had any right to delve into his past.

  He broke a long silence by saying, “I suppose that’s only fair. I come from a Royal Navy family and followed in those footsteps with never a second thought. I started very young and was considered promising until I did something that disgraced my family and led to my being forced out of the service.”

  When he halted, she said encouragingly, “You were outrageous?”

  “I didn’t think so at the time. I still don’t. But I broke one of the rules of war. If I were older and came from a less distinguished naval family, it could have led to my being hanged.” He shrugged. “Instead, I was merely disgraced and disowned.”

  She winced. Her family might be exasperated by her, but there had never been any question of being disowned. “So you became a merchant seaman.”

  He shrugged again. “I knew nothing else. I’m comfortably situated now with a good ship and crew, and I’ve enjoyed greater variety than I would have as an officer in the Royal Navy. Carrying cargo. Other less respectable things.”

  “Smuggling?” she asked with interest.

  “Occasionally, but only once or twice when it seemed necessary. There have been odd missions like coming here. Recently I transported a man to America to rescue a woman, then had to get them both safely back to England.” He smiled. “I’ve done quite a bit of blockade running, but now that peace is in sight, there will be no more blockades for me to run.”

  “Blockade running!” she said with delight. “A hero to the people who desperately need the supplies you bring, a scoundrel to those who set up the blockade!”

  “Do I see a story forming?” he asked, amused.

  “Exactly! The heroine is a blockade runner, the hero is captain of a naval ship that is maintaining the blockade.” Her voice became low and dramatic. “She swings up into the rigging of her ship with her cutlass in hand, defying fate and danger. He sees her through his spyglass and is stunned by her wild, free beauty.”

  “It’s a start,” Gabriel said a little doubtfully. “How do you get them together and overcome the inherent conflict between a blockade runner and the man who is pledged to catch her or blow her ship out of the water?”

  “Conflict is what makes a story interesting. I’ll think of something,” she said confidently. “Developing a plot and making it at least slightly plausible takes time.”

  His idea was a good one, but she realized the story of his past wasn’t very detailed. A little hesitantly, she said, “You and Malek Reis seem to know each other.”

  “We do. It’s a long story.”

  Before Gabriel could continue, Malek finished speaking with his servant and called, “Hawkins! Lady Aurora! Come!”

  Gabriel pushed away from the fence. “A long story for another day. Shall we see what other creatures Malek wishes transported to Constantinople?”

  * * *

  When they caught up with Malek, he said brusquely, “This way,” and led them down another lane to the right. The next enclosure they approached contained amazingly tall, leggy birds with dramatic plumage. “Ostriches?” Gabriel said. “I’ve seen the feathers, but never the actual creature.”

  Malek gestured at the half dozen giant birds, who were ambling around their enclosure. “I’m thinking of sending a pair. Would their height cause difficulties?”

  Gabriel frowned as he calculated. “A section of the hold is high enough to accommodate them, though the male won’t have much head room. I don’t think I could safely transport giraffes, though.”

  “Ostriches will suffice.” Malek pivoted and strode off along the alley. The next enclosure on the opposite side of the walkway announced its inhabitants by both musky scent and a bone-shivering roar. Lions.

  This enclosure they didn’t enter. Gabriel studied the tawny beasts with fascination. He’d seen lions once or twice before, but not from so close. A massive, heavily maned male sprawled in the shade of a vine-covered shelter, his family around him. The adult lions were also drowsing, though several playful cubs tumbled together in the sunshine, tawny balls of fur with claws.

  “So beautiful,” Rory breathed. Gabriel glanced at her rapt expression, thinking she was rather like a golden lioness herself. Sleek, beautiful, brave—and quite possibly deadly in the right circumstances.

  His musing was interrupted when a young male suddenly leaped onto the back of the lounging lord of the pride. The leader erupted from the ground with a shattering baritone roar and the two males tore into a vicious version of the playful cubs’ wrestling.

  As the lions crashed across the sandy compound, Rory gasped, one hand going to her mouth. “Sultan is going to kill Ghazi!”

  The older male, Sultan, rapidly overcame the younger and pinned him to the ground. He was on the verge of tearing Ghazi’s throat out when two keepers raced out of the lion house with whips and a wooden chair. The men managed to separate the lions and herd the young one, bleeding from bites and scratches, back into the building.

  Gabriel released the breath he’d been holding, shaken by seeing nature at its most primal. “How many lions will you be sending, and which ones?”

  “The young one, Ghazi,” Malek said thoughtfully. “If he stays here, he’ll keep challenging Sultan until he’s killed. Most young males never make it to adulthood, and that would be a shame. Ghazi is an impressive young beast and will grow into a true king if he has the time.”

  One lion would be easier to transport than several. “I’ll try to arrange the cages so the lion scent doesn’t drive the other animals mad. Predators and prey do not make good neighbors.”

  “Discuss that with my animal keepers.” Malek pushed away from the fence. “They will know best how to arrange the beasts.”

  “Are there any other animal passengers to join us?”

  “Yes, and they will be the most difficult.” Malek led the three of them to the right until they reached the end of the walkway. A wide enclosure held a mud-edged pond, where the dark bulk of massive bodies could be seen dimly below the surface. Only the tops of their broad heads and small ears were visible.

  “Hippopotami?” Gabriel tried to judge their size from the parts that were visible. “Are they young ones? They seem small.”

  “They’re pygmy hippopotami from West Africa, very rare,” Malek said with pride. “They’re about a quarter the size of the common hippo. There may be no others of their breed in the Ottoman Empire.”

  “But they’re still far from small, and you’re right that they’ll be difficult to transport,” Gabriel said. “Surely they’ll need tanks of water to survive? That will be very heavy and potentially dangerous if the sea is rough.”

  Malek shrugged. “They came here by ship. Surely you can do the same as well?”

  Ignoring the gibe, Gabriel said, “Barring the unforeseen, they can be safely transported to Constantinople.”

  “Very good. Can you leave in three days?”

  Wondering why Malek was in such a hurry, Gabriel said, “Yes, but only if you can immediately supply men and materials for refitting t
he ship to accommodate you, your men, and your animal cargo.”

  “You will have all you need,” Malek said tersely. “Three days, then.”

  As the men turned away from the hippo pool, Rory said to Malek, “Sir, before we leave, I’d like to speak to the crew of the Devon Lady to tell them what is happening.”

  Malek frowned, but Gabriel said quietly to him, “It would be a kindness and would cost you nothing. When one is imprisoned, ignorance of surrounding circumstances can drive a man mad.”

  Malek nodded his reluctant agreement. “This is their day of rest so you may visit them in the bagnio after you leave here, Lady Aurora.”

  “I’d like to go with her,” Gabriel said. “Since I’m another sailor, they can be rude to me if they feel the need.”

  “Very well. After, meet me in my office so we can discuss the material, labor, and supplies that will be needed. My majordomo will direct you.” He turned and stalked away with the same tension he’d been showing since Gabriel had arrived.

  “Thank you for being willing to accompany me, Gabriel,” Rory said with a smile that briefly disabled his wits.

  As she pulled her mantle close around her and followed Malek, Gabriel couldn’t help thinking how much he looked forward to having her on his ship, no matter how awkward or difficult it would be to travel with such an appealing lady in close quarters.

  Chapter 6

  The bagnio was cramped and stuffy with the scents of too many men in too small a space, but it wasn’t as bad as Rory had feared. High, narrow windows just below the level of the ceiling provided some air circulation, and there were a sink and water pump in the corner, and sufficient sleeping mats for the entire crew of the Devon Lady.

  Still, when the guards unbarred the massive door to admit Rory to the bagnio, she was grateful for the quiet presence of Gabriel Hawkins behind her. Because it was a day of rest, many of the sailors were drowsing on their mats, but as soon as she entered, the occupants leaped to their feet and crowded around her, their expressions eager as they bombarded her with questions.