Terror gave her strength. “I haven’t wanted this,” she shrieked, giving him another shove, this one harder than the last, as she caught him off guard while he tried to enter her. Anger overcame her fear. “I only wanted to be your friend. I felt sorry for you. Your face…”
“My face!” he screamed, and she shriveled beneath him, terrified at his maniacal expression, made even more eerie by the filtering moonlight. “You felt sorry for me, did you? Why, you snobby little bitch! I didn’t ask for your pity. I even welcomed those lashes on my back if it meant being close to you. I thought you were something special, but you ain’t. I’ll show you how I want your pity…”
And with a roar that pierced the night, like that of an animal gone mad, he dug his fingers into her buttocks, slamming them painfully against the rough deck, at the same time spreading her thighs more widely apart with a quick swing of his knees. She lay completely vulnerable beneath him…helpless.
With one hand, he held her arms above her head. Then he covered her mouth with his hot, seeking lips, stifling her screams as he used his free hand to maneuver himself to enter her.
Julie’s cries melded into the sounds of the revelry beyond and disappeared on the night wind like a fragile bird caught in a gale.
Chapter Four
No one had noticed the man standing topside on the ship’s bridge. Hidden by the shadows, he was watching the scene below with agitated interest.
So that was the beauteous Julie Marshal, he observed curiously. He found her every bit as lovely as his first officer had said she was. The moonlight brushed her ebony hair with silver dust, and her face was a delicate sculpture of loveliness in the light’s heavenly glow.
Even from where Derek Arnhardt stood, he could see that the young woman was generously endowed. He stared at the rise and fall of her bosom as she lifted her voice in song. Exquisite breasts, he thought, opening and closing his fingers as though actually caressing the firm, tender flesh. It had been a long time since he had pleasured himself with a woman, and he felt as though his eyes were feasting on the most beautiful specimen he had ever seen.
Something caught his eye, and he realized suddenly that a jug was being passed around. He slammed his fist against the wooden railing. This was the reason he had wanted her kept below. A woman was bad luck on a ship, especially one such as his, and she did not realize how she was incensing his men.
He noticed that she appeared frightened and was moving sideways along the railing, away from the crowd of men. Good. Perhaps there would be no trouble. In a little while, he would send Garris and his men down there to break up the revelry. For the moment, he would allow the crew to carry on since they were going to be punished anyway for breaking the rules about drinking onboard.
He drew on his pipe thoughtfully, thinking how Julie’s fright was probably teaching her a lesson. She would, no doubt, be glad to stay below for the remainder of the voyage.
The door behind him opened, and he turned to see Edsel Garris stepping up beside him. Scanning the scene, he sucked in his breath, shocked, then faced his captain to cry, “Sir, she left the dining room over an hour ago and said she was retiring for the night. I had no idea she’d slipped up on deck. And those men appear to be drinking—”
“They’re drunk, most of them,” Derek commented tonelessly. “Someone began passing the jug, and what started out as a quiet little song fest is now a bawdy party.”
He had been facing Edsel, and now he turned his gaze back to the deck. Leaning forward, he cried, “Goddammit, she’s struggling with someone. Get down there quick—”
But Edsel was already through the door, taking the thin plank steps two at a time. The first officer made his way down below, yelling for Watson and Justice to come quickly and bring their side arms. They answered his call, demanding to know what was happening, but he cried that there was no time to explain, and urged them to hurry.
The three crashed through the opening onto the deck, pistols drawn. The crewmen, drunk though they were, saw them and immediately the revelry ceased, as though a giant, unseen hand had passed and dropped a shroud of silence over them.
Then they could all hear it—the muffled cries and moans as Julie struggled in the darkness beyond with Shad. The sailors moved aside as the officers picked their way over the riggings and ropes, making their way toward the sounds.
Shad Harky was on top of Julie, about to force himself inside her. Edsel swore as he swung his booted foot to kick the side of the boatswain’s head, sending him sprawling sideways with a startled cry of pain. Floyd reached to scoop Julie quickly to her feet, and she sagged gratefully against him as he wrapped his arms about her to hide her nakedness.
“Take her to her cabin,” Edsel ordered. “Make sure she’s all right. Watson, help me get this bastard below. We’ll put him in chains. I’ve a feeling this time his neck will stretch, for sure.”
Julie kept her face pressed against Floyd Justice’s chest as he helped her away from the scene. “Would you like for me to carry you?” he asked worriedly.
She murmured feebly that she could walk. She felt so foolish, so embarrassed. A few more seconds and Shad would have succeeded in ravishing her. Only by struggling with every ounce of strength she could muster, twisting her hips from side to side as he tried to penetrate, had she been saved from his full assault. Shuddering, she thought how terrible it had been, and how much worse it would have been had the officers not arrived when they did. And it was so humiliating for everyone to have seen her that way—naked…exposed…vulnerable…
Floyd felt her trembling and patted her awkwardly as they reached the steps leading below. “It’s going to be all right,” he tried to comfort her. “It’s over. I just hope you aren’t hurt.”
Just as they were about to descend, the outraged bellow came, splitting the heavens with its vociferousness. They turned to see Shad struggling against Edsel and Grover as they held him between them.
“I’m gonna get you!” he screamed at Julie. “You wanted me! I know you did! You led me on, you little trollop. I’ll fix you good…”
And then he turned his face upward, in a direction beyond Julie’s view, and he bellowed once again: “I’ll get you too, you son of a bitch. I’ll see you dead! Goddamn you, Ironheart…”
Then he slumped forward, making a grunting sound, and hung limply between the two officers. Julie knew one of them must have silenced his tirade. Her body quivering, she allowed Floyd to help her on down the steps, thankful to depart the scene.
Just as they reached the door to her cabin, the one opposite swung open. Her mother stood there, clutching her robe to her throat, mouth agape. “Oh, dear God!” she whispered, swaying, reaching out to steady herself against the door facing her. “Julie, what has happened?…”
Floyd helped Julie inside the cabin, where she slumped gratefully down to the bed. Her mother hovered nearby, demanding to know what was going on.
When he had covered Julie with a blanket, Floyd turned to her mother and told her as gently as possible about Shad’s attack.
“I’m all right, Mother.” Julie was surprised at the calmness with which she could speak. “He didn’t succeed with what he was trying to do. The officers got there in time.”
Her mother sat down and put her arms around Julie. “But what were you doing up on deck? You said you were going to bed a long while ago.”
Wearily, she shook her head and sank back on the pillow. “It doesn’t matter now. It’s over. I just don’t want to think about it anymore.”
Closing her eyes, she tried to shut out the sounds of Mr. Justice telling her mother what little he knew of the incident, and that Shad Harky was being placed in chains. “There’s no telling what the captain will do to him now. Mr. Garris says he’ll probably hang.”
Julie didn’t want to think about that possibility, either. She just wished none of it had happened. And why did Shad Harky accuse her of leading him on? Because she had not turned away in horror and disgust when she first s
aw his scarred face? The man must be mad. But then, she never should have gone on deck. It had all seemed so harmless at first, so pleasant. The quiet of the night, the singing…
There was a soft rap on the door, and Floyd opened it and murmured, “Oh, Jenkins, it’s you.”
Julie opened one eye and saw a disheveled crewman standing just inside the cabin, looking quite uncomfortable as he explained to Officer Justice that Officer Garris had told him to come. “He says the captain insists on knowing if Miss Marshal is hurt.”
“I’m all right,” she murmured wearily, wishing they would all just go away and leave her alone. “I’ve got a few bruises, probably, and I’m a bit sore, but I’ll be all right if all of you would just let me rest.”
There was an awkward silence, and the crewman repeated apologetically that the captain wanted to be sure.
Julie had closed her eyes, but she sensed someone leaning over her, and she looked up to see Floyd’s slightly flushed face as he whispered tensely, “I’m afraid Jenkins will have to examine you, Miss Marshal. He used to be a doctor—”
“Used to be?” she echoed, stunned. “Mr. Justice, I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“He was run out of the town where he was practicing, because of his drinking,” he hurriedly explained. “A patient died when he bungled the man’s treatment because he was drunk. The captain signed him on to have someone around when we need a doctor. It’s all right. He’s perfectly competent, since he’s sober. He wasn’t involved in the drinking tonight. Now he must examine you. I’m sorry. Your mother may remain with you, of course.”
Julie gritted her teeth and agreed to the examination. Anything, she thought, suppressing a scream of fury, anything to get it over with and have everyone just leave her alone.
The doctor’s examination was embarrassing and degrading, but at least, she thought with a sigh of relief when it was over, he was fast. The whole ordeal took but a few moments. Then he was saying that, indeed, she seemed fine. There was no bleeding, no danger of hemorrhage, and she had few bruises.
“I told you he didn’t actually do anything,” Julie ground out the words. “Now please, may I get some rest?”
“I’ll ask Mr. Justice to have some brandy sent in to help you relax,” he murmured as he hurried out.
Her mother helped her get into a gown, admonishing her all the while for disobeying orders. “I hope you’ve learned a lesson, dear. Let’s be thankful it wasn’t worse.”
Edsel Garris arrived with a bottle of brandy and insisted that Julie have a drink. “The captain is quite concerned, and I’m to report to him and assure him that you are all right.”
“Concerned!” Julie snorted with disdain. “So he sends you. He isn’t concerned enough to inquire personally. He sends his lackey.”
Her lids grew heavy as the brandy made her relaxed and sleepy. She closed her eyes, the sounds of her mother’s and Edsel’s conversation drifting farther and farther away…finally disappearing completely as she dropped off into blessed oblivion.
She awoke with a start.
The dim grayish-rose light peeking through the porthole told her that night was almost over and dawn was breaking in the east. She had slept soundly, but what had awakened her? Trying to focus her eyes in the haziness, she sat up, apprehension making her flesh tingle.
And then she saw the shadow of a man. He was leaning against the little desk in the corner. Gasping with fright, she clutched the blankets tightly to her chin and cried, “Who’s there?” as a scream bubbled deep in her throat.
A husky, mellow voice answered, “I thought I should prove my concern by inquiring personally. I understand you stated your doubts to my first officer to the point of dubbing him my lackey.” He sounded slightly mocking.
While Julie could not see his face, she could distinguish that he was a large man. The image of the captain she had conjured was of a withered, sour old creature who hated the world and everyone in it, including himself. The richly masculine voice that touched her ears did not sound like that of an old man, nor was he small and shriveled.
Propping herself up on the pillows, she took a deep breath and silently vowed not to let herself be intimidated. “I hardly call the middle of the night an appropriate time for a personal call, Captain.”
“It’s dawn, Miss Marshal. My ship comes alive at dawn, but of course you wouldn’t know that since you sleep till mid-morning.”
“And how would you know my sleeping habits?” she snapped. “You never come out of wherever it is that you hide.”
He laughed. “I know everything that goes on around here. I know my men too, particularly Harky, and perhaps now you understand why I didn’t want you up on deck.”
It was becoming lighter in the cabin, the sky turning a glowing watermelon pink. Julie could tell that the captain’s arms were folded across his chest and his legs were slightly apart. His face remained hidden by the lingering shadows.
“All right. You’ve paid a personal visit. I thank you for your concern, but I’m quite all right, as you see.” Then she asked what he planned to do with Shad Harky.
Again his tone was mocking, infuriating her as he asked, “What would you have me to do with him? You were his victim.”
Flustered, she replied, “Well, my goodness, I don’t know. He was drunk, and even though I’m angry and upset over what he tried to do, I don’t want to see him dead. Mr. Justice said this time he would probably hang. Last time you scarred his face.”
“I’ve always been a firm believer that a person must learn from his mistakes. If he’s punished severely enough, he seldom repeats them. Shad Harky is a scummy rogue who’ll never learn anything, no matter how many times he’s beaten. He could just as easily have killed you last night. He’s killed before, but that was before he signed on board my ship. Many of my men are guilty of heinous crimes, but I don’t hold their past against them; I only consider their present actions.” Grimly he added, “Harky’s had too many second chances.”
“Then you’ll hang him.”
“I should. If I don’t, it will set a poor example for my men. They’ll think they can break the rules over and over and get away with it. So I really don’t have a choice, now, do I?”
Julie’s mind was spinning. True, she was angry with Shad. She never wanted to see him again. But to see him die because of her? And yes, she would have to share the blame for what happened. Too late, she realized how foolhardy it had been to go on deck and sing and mingle with the crew. Had she stayed below, none of it would have happened. “Can’t you just throw him off your ship when you reach port?” she asked hopefully.
He was silent for a long time, and she saw that he was packing a pipe. He lit it, drew in the smoke, and exhaled. She found the aroma of the tobacco pleasant. And it suited him, somehow.
“I understand you have a very soft heart.” He finally spoke. “That is commendable, but I’ve a ship to run. I can’t tolerate last night’s behavior. Every man who was drinking will receive three lashes. They all know I don’t allow drinking on board my ship.
“Harky has been punished once for trying to rape a female passenger, and the punishment was quite severe,” he acknowledged. “But I told him at the time that a repeated offense would mean his death. Obviously he didn’t take me seriously, and my men must believe me when I speak.”
“Oh, damn!” she cried in exasperation. “Why is it so important to you that the men fear you? Are you suffering from some feeling of inferiority that makes you want people to bow down to you as though you were God Himself? Does it give you a perverted delight to know they call you Ironheart behind your back, or perhaps you do indeed have a heart of iron, with no compassion for your fellow man!”
His tone did not change, and she knew she had failed in her attempt to goad him. “I’ve a ship to run. I can’t do so efficiently without the respect of my crew. And it’s their respect I demand. If fear must accompany that respect, then so be it.”
He hesitated, then continued. �
�Tell me, Miss Marshal. What if Harky had been successful in his assault, and you had been ravished? Would you still plead for his life, or would you be demanding his death?”
She shook her head, blinking back the hot tears of frustration. “I don’t know. I just wish none of this had happened. Please, just leave me alone.”
But he made no move to leave. She jerked the blankets all the way up over her head and lay very still. She could feel him staring at her. When he did speak, she was stunned.
“There’s no denying you have a lovely body.”
She threw back the blankets and stared incredulously at him. Then she realized it was dawn at last, and the cabin was light enough for her to see him and make out his features. She was startled to find him handsome. His hair was dark, the color of rich, warm coffee. Long, thick lashes fringed eyes as black as the murky swamp waters of the Savannah marshes.
He was quite muscular, with brawny arms and shoulders. The shirt he wore was open to the waist, and his chest was covered with thick, curly hair that trailed down to his waist and seemed to ripple with each breath he drew.
Her eyes moved downward to tight pants stretched across strong, hard thighs. She sensed something quite fascinating about him, his lips slanted in a mocking smile, the long, straight nose with nostrils that flared ominously, the penetrating gaze as though he could see to the very depths of her soul. He looked dangerous and feral, and despite her determination not to be intimidated by this man, she fought the impulse to wither beneath his almost impudent stare. He exuded strength, as though he could easily crush the breath of life from a man with his bare hands.
Finally she found her voice once again, and choked out her indignant reaction. “How dare you say such a thing?”
He smiled lazily. “From where I stood last night, even I could appreciate such a fine figure of a woman. And I understand Harky tore your clothes, exposing you for everyone else to see…”
He moved quickly, like the sleek black panther she had once glimpsed in the swamps. He was beside her, and she shrank back into the mattress as he towered above her. “I knew you’d have green eyes,” he murmured, “as green as the cold, dark currents of the deepest waters. But I see a fire in them, a warmth, and when your passion is aroused, I’ll wager they blaze like the sea at sunrise.”
Souls Aflame Page 5
