Merriana’s gaze flicked down to the man’s wavering erection and her resolve strengthened. Fearing the filth of the thing as much as any pain Arny might inflict, she stepped forward and picked up the bucket of water. “Yes, washing,” she replied. “Don’t you always wash before?”
“Before?” Arny repeated again, his pale blue eyes clouded with confusion. “Before what? Oh! Before that, ye mean. Well, no, not usually. And I don’t see no need to do so this time.”
“Oh, but I insist,” Merriana exclaimed as she raised the bucket and flung all of its contents into Arny’s face.
She was certain that if Vidal and Henri had been present to witness her poor planning, they would have shaken their heads in dismay. But then Vidal and Henri had never discussed what she should do if a man was standing before her with his breeches around his ankles, and in this case, Merriana had unwittingly done the one thing that was to save her.
Arny jumped back in shock when the water hit him in the face and then stumbled when his own breeches wrapped themselves around his feet. He fell heavily backwards, flinging his arms out in an attempt to break his fall. But there was nothing for him to grab onto, and his head slammed, with his full weight behind it, into the wooden wall.
Merriana stared in horror at Arny for long seconds as he lay sprawled, half naked, in the cabin floor, expecting him at any moment to open his eyes and then rise to take his revenge. But she was soon able to judge that Arny would not be awakening anytime soon. The blow to his head seemed to have knocked him completely unconscious, and Merriana realized that her attacker was unwittingly offering her a slim chance to save her own and Charles’s lives.
The ship was still in port, and if she could manage to escape, surely, Merriana prayed, she could find someone in the city to return with her to save Charles.
But she realized that a female, especially one with hair the color of hers, was going to have a difficult time moving about on the ship without being spotted. It was imperative, then, that she disguise herself as much as possible, but the raw materials for doing so were not abundant in the near-stripped cabin. She would have to make do, she decided, with what she could appropriate from the fallen Arny. Quickly she pulled his trousers from around his feet and slipped them on, easily stuffing the tail of her gown into the amply proportioned male garment. Next, she pulled a knitted cap from his head and, with a moue of distaste for its rank odor, placed it on her own head and pushed her hair inside its crown.
Merriana’s next unpleasant chore was to retrieve the key from Arny’s shirt pocket, which she did as gingerly as possible, fearing each time she touched him that he would suddenly awaken and grab her. But he never stirred, and so within seconds she was unlocking the door with less than steady hands.
The metallic taste of fear was strong in her mouth as she eased the door open and peeked into the hallway. For the moment at least, it was clear, and she hastily closed the door behind her, slipping the key into her trouser pocket. She would have enjoyed locking Arny inside that cabin, but she feared that he might take his frustrations out on Charles if he awoke to find himself trouserless and a captive.
Luck, it appeared, had capriciously decided to side with Merriana for a change. Or so she was beginning to hope as she managed to slip up the stairs and out onto the deck without being noticed. She then moved as quickly and as nonchalantly as possible behind a water barrel, and then from hiding place to hiding place, as she came nearer and nearer attaining her goal and her most dangerous obstacle—the now-deserted gangplank. There she would be at her most visible and most vulnerable to recapture. But it had to be tried. She feared waiting too long, lest the ship sail and her last hopes be cut off.
She had slipped behind a longboat to catch her breath and try to calm her nerves before beginning her final sprint toward escape. She was getting close enough to freedom to begin wondering what she would do once she reached the docks. Who would she find to help her? She was not fool enough to think that any casual passer-by would respond to a plea for help from a stranger, especially when that stranger was a female dressed as she was.
Merriana bit her lip and tried to concentrate. If only Justin were still in town, he would know what to do. But why was she thinking of Justin? The last time she’d seen him, he’d made it clear that he never wished to be bothered with her again. And anyway, he would never believe another fantastic tale about her family’s plots against her, assuming as he did that she was an accomplice rather than a victim of those conspiracies.
But oh, how she wished she could turn to him. If only he would believe in her, then he would certainly be able to help her. And at the moment, she could think of no one else with the skills needed to rescue Charles. If she closed her eyes, she could almost see Justin’s face, but there was little comfort to be found there, for she knew that could she really see Justin, his eyes would be snapping with anger and his lips would be curled in distaste for what he perceived as her treachery.
With a silent sigh, Merriana opened her eyes. And then closed and opened them again. Justin’s face, which had been so clear in her mind when her eyes were closed, was even clearer when her eyes were open. Ah, but this was too cruel. Just as she was approaching freedom, her senses had apparently left her. For Justin could not be on this ship, and she could not be seeing him crouched there, dressed in sailors’ garb, frowning at her with worry written large in his eyes.
“Merriana?” The whisper sounded just like Justin’s voice, but she didn’t respond. If one had lost one’s mind, was it better to reply to one’s fantasies, or just pretend they weren’t there?
“Merriana! Are you all right? Speak to me, my darling.”
He had called her his darling. Well, there was no doubt now. Obviously this Justin was naught but a figment of her fright. The real Justin distrusted and hated her. The real Justin might call her many things—but never his darling.
“Merriana, listen to me. I know you’ve been through a great deal, but don’t shut me out. I’m here to help you, but first you must help me. Tell me about Charles, Merriana. Where is he? Is he still alive?”
Merriana slowly nodded her head. If one humored illusions, did they go away?
“Charles is still alive? Very good. And is he still on this ship? Can you take me to him?”
Merriana shook her head and sighed dejectedly. She had tried ignoring her illusion, and she had tried humoring it, but it was still there, looking as substantial as Justin himself would have looked had he cared enough for her to try to help her. “Go away,” she whispered. “Leave me alone. I must get off this ship. I must bring help for Charles.”
“Merriana! I’m here to help you. Why else would I have dressed up like a sailor and slipped onto this ship? I’ve come to help rescue you and Charles. But you must lead me to Charles. Can you do that?”
Merriana frowned in concentration as she stared at her fantasy. He sounded like Justin, he looked like Justin, he even smelled of a spicy blend of soap and cologne like Justin. But Merriana again shook her head. She had heard strange tales of how a blow to the head could result in a disordered mind—which was, no doubt, the explanation for what she was seeing and hearing and smelling.
And so she clamped her teeth together, glared one last time at the bothersome phantasm, and turned to resume her attempt to escape.
Within a fraction of a second, the illusion’s arms had wrapped around her, his right hand clamped tightly across her mouth and his left arm pulling her close against his chest. Merriana was too surprised to fight. Besides, at last she accepted that the arms imprisoning her were not only human but that they belonged to Justin.
“Blast it, Merriana,” he hissed into her ear. “I understand why you don’t trust me and why you don’t want my help. But think of Charles. I’m your best chance for saving him. Others besides me are involved in this rescue plan, and if you won’t accept my part in it, there’s a very good chance that the others won’t be able to carry out their parts either. Now, are you going to allow me t
o help you and your brother?”
Merriana nodded her head. There was little else she could do, after all, since he was holding her so tightly. But she was even further convinced that Justin was real, for she knew that her body would never have responded so intensely if he were an illusion.
Besides, he had just explained why he was here—to help Charles, of course. It should have been obvious from the beginning. Charles was Justin’s friend, and Justin would do everything possible to save him. But at least she now had the help she had been longing for, and her relief was so strong that she felt herself slumping in Justin’s arms.
“Don’t faint, Merriana,” he commanded quietly. “I need you now as much as you need me. If I let you go, will you tell me where you left Charles?”
Merriana fought back the weakness that had threatened her and again nodded her head. Justin was right. He would need her help if they were to save Charles, and she wouldn’t allow herself to do less than her best toward that end. So she nodded again, more strongly this time, and was rewarded as Justin very slowly and carefully removed his hand from her mouth. Seconds later, he had turned her in his arms and pulled her close, crushing her against him as though he feared she would be wrenched from his grasp at any moment.
She wanted nothing so much as to respond to the warmth of Justin’s embrace and to lose herself in the pure joy of being back in his arms again, where she felt, for the first time in days, secure and protected. But she was much too aware of his contempt for her to allow herself to savor such joys. And so she forced her body to stiffen against him, and he quickly loosened his grasp. “Very well,” he said, sighing softly. “I understand your feelings. Besides, Charles’s safety must come first. Obviously, you were trying to leave the ship, but the price of your safety could be the forfeit of Charles’s life, and I know you too well to even suggest you put your own welfare before his. So, Merriana, will you, can you, lead me to where Charles is being held?”
Merriana nodded once more, even as she lowered her gaze to hide the hurt she knew must be written in her eyes. For it was obvious to her that, however much Justin might distrust and despise her, he was willing to put his feelings aside until Charles could be saved. And she must do the same, she knew, so she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin while listening carefully to Justin’s explanation of what they needed to do.
Then she prayed and saw her prayers answered as she led him undetected back to the cabin from which Arny had disappeared and in which Charles still lay sleeping in a stupor that was much too deep to be natural.
Chapter 31
“You’re planning to allow the ship to sail with us on it?” Merriana gaped at Justin as though he were as demented as she herself had felt less than half an hour before.
She had just finished telling Justin, at his insistence, everything that had happened to her during this long and harrowing day, relating the events as unemotionally as possible, even as she wondered whether he believed anything she said. But he had given no clue to his feelings before he began outlining the plans that had been made for Charles’s rescue.
“But such a strategy makes no sense,” Merriana objected. “If there’s any hope at all—and I’ll admit it’s a slim one—we must get Charles off this ship before it sails. My captor may be back at any moment. And even now Arny, the sailor I told you about, could be sounding an alarm.”
To Merriana’s disgust, Justin, who was bent over Charles while gently examining his injuries, merely shrugged. “If I know anything of human nature,” he replied with a grim smile as he stood and turned to face her, “I’d say Arny has already abandoned ship. After all, when he regained consciousness, he would have realized that it might be a shade difficult to justify his actions in coming back to this cabin, let alone trying to explain how you overpowered him and stripped him of his trousers.”
But Merriana was not mollified. “Even so, I can’t understand why you agreed to allow the ship to sail. Surely this sea captain you told me of could have helped rescue us while we are still in port.”
“At first I felt the same way as you do, Merriana,” Justin responded with a sigh. “But the captain and Michael Hudson convinced me otherwise. This ship is well guarded against attack now, but once we’re at sea, no one will be expecting a rescue attempt and the element of surprise will be in our favor. In the meantime, I’m here to ensure that you and Charles live until that rescue takes place. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m rather well armed.”
“I had noticed,” Merriana muttered, glancing at the two pistols protruding from the waist of Justin’s trousers. “But you’re only one person, while there are dozens of equally well-armed sailors on this ship.”
Justin shrugged. “I didn’t say it was a foolproof plan, merely that it’s the best we could come up with on short notice.”
Merriana clamped her lips together, determined not to say another word about what she saw as a ridiculously inadequate strategy or even to speak again unless absolutely necessary. But then she looked at her brother and couldn’t remain silent. “What do you think of Charles’s condition?” she asked.
“Although he has certainly been beaten thoroughly, I don’t think he’s injured nearly as badly as you seem to fear. His deep sleep, I am convinced, is the result of some drug, for I’ve seen other men sleep as he does and wake many hours later with little worse than an aching head.”
“I hope you’re right.” Merriana sighed. Then, “Justin?”
“Yes?”
“When is the ship scheduled to sail?”
“Based on the sounds I can detect from above, I would say any minute now. Why?”
“Because I just recalled your saying a few minutes ago that once you’ve surprised my captor and are holding him at gunpoint, you’ll need me to tie him up. But, frankly, I’m afraid that once the ship gets underway, I’ll be too sick to help you.”
“Blast my wretched memory,” Justin said as he thrust his hand into one of his pockets and pulled out a small vial of dark liquid. “Thank you for reminding me. I recalled your problem with seasickness when we first devised this plan and sent Tom to an apothecary to have a bottle of Isaac’s remedy made up for you. Thank heavens there weren’t many ingredients or I would never have remembered all of them. Here, drink this and we’ll pray that it works as well this time as it did on our return trip from France.”
Merriana took the vial with a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” she murmured as she turned the bottle up and drank down the ill-tasting liquid. “Now perhaps I won’t be incapacitated by seasickness.” She would have liked to think that Justin’s thoughtfulness in obtaining the medicine for her resulted from some concern on his part for her well-being, but she quickly pushed such thoughts from her mind. For he hadn’t bothered to deny that his first interest had been in keeping her well enough to be of help to him in rescuing Charles.
“We’d better sit down and rest while we can,” Justin said. “I’ll take the chair because it’s closer to the door and I can more easily hear someone coming from there. You can sit on the end of Charles’s cot. And don’t forget, when your relative enters the cabin, he’ll probably be armed. Try to attract his attention so I can surprise him from my hiding place behind the door.”
“I won’t forget,” Merriana murmured as she seated herself on her brother’s bunk.
“Do you feel certain that he’ll be back tonight?”
“I would think so, yes. I told you that he wants me to write some sort of confession. I suspect he’ll return for that purpose.”
“I hope you’re right. The sooner I have him tied up, the better I’ll feel.”
“But what will we do if someone misses him and comes to investigate?”
“By then I’ll be holding him as our hostage, not to mention the fact that I will have been able to lock the door from the inside, thanks to your having had the excellent sense to hold onto that key you took from Arny.”
“Speaking of the key, did you lock the door?” Merriana asked in a whis
per. She’d passed the key along to Justin when she took off Arny’s britches and retrieved the key from the pocket.
“I don’t want to lock the door yet in case your relative isn’t aware that we have the key. We don’t know what, if anything, Arny said about his unscheduled visit with you earlier today. If he was smart, he will have gotten off this ship before it leaves port.”
He paused for a minute. “And it feels as though we’re getting under way now. We’d better stop talking because we need to keep our ears open. Let me know if you hear any steps in the corridor.”
“Very well,” Merriana agreed, and with a silent sigh, she settled back on Charles’s cot to listen and wait.
The hours dragged by as the day faded into evening and the cabin darkened. Merriana sat numbly through the long hours of silence. She began to feel as though the boundaries of her world had contracted to the confines of this small cabin, and her thoughts, despite her best efforts, remained centered on the sounds that filled her world—her brother’s deep and often irregular inhalations and Justin’s much softer breathing, so muted as to be almost undetectable across the few feet that separated them.
But Justin’s presence was a force Merriana could feel in every fiber of her body. How, she wondered, had she ever convinced herself that she hated him when now she longed for him with near total abandon? Three times she opened her mouth to begin to beg him to believe in her, and three times she closed it without uttering a word. Trust, she knew, must come from the heart rather than the head, so however much her words might convince Justin that she was not what he thought her to be, some doubts would linger, destroying any chances for their love, until he could believe in her with his heart as well as his mind. Now she feared they would both die before that trust ever had a chance to be reborn.
“My cousin-in-law, whatever his name may be, could at least have left us a candle,” Merriana complained in a whisper when she could no longer sit silently with only her tensions for companionship.
The Mysterious Merriana Page 26
