Slowly Katherine crept from the fog of sleep. She opened her eyes and blinked; how peculiar the cabin looked. Then she drifted back into sleep. Later she came to semiconsciousness to find a maid tugging her awake to force her to eat a bowl of sticky porridge. Of course, she realized drowsily, she was a little girl and sick and Betsy was making her eat this awful porridge. Slowly her heavy eyelids shut. The next time she awakened, her faculties were clearer, and she stared around her at the dingy, cramped, bare room she was in.
“Matthew?” her voice came out a frightened whisper. She wet her dry lips and swallowed. Hadn’t she escaped from Matthew? But of course—she had escaped and there had been those two awful men and then that gentleman had stabbed one with his cane. How ridiculous; how could he stab anybody with a cane? She pressed her hands to her swimming head. It felt as if it would inflate and float up to the ceiling at any moment. Tears started in her eyes and she wanted to whimper. Where was she? Where was the captain? Peljo? The ship?
Suddenly the door opened and a woman entered. She was of medium height and very full-figured; her filmy wrapper was pulled tight against her, revealing every line of her body, and the globes of her breasts pushed up impudently from the low neckline. Her hair was long and loose, jet-black; it tumbled freely down her back. She looked at Katherine contemptuously and tossed back her luxuriant mane.
“I do not think you are so much,” she sneered. “Parker said you were a beauty, a ‘Venus.’ Ha! Let me tell you, Missy, you haven’t a tenth of the appeal I have.”
Katherine stared at her. Who on earth was she? What was she? Her face was pretty, though covered with heavy makeup, bright red on her cheeks and lips, globbed black on her eyelashes. But now it was set in petulant lines, and hostility radiated from her. Why? Katherine struggled to sit up, clutching the bedsheet to her in an attempt to maintain some dignity. (Why was she in her shift, and where was her dress?)
“What do you mean?” Her voice came out cracked and small.
The woman laughed. “What do I mean?” she mimicked. “What do I mean? Why, just that you’re a pale little nothing, no spark. Why, they’ll probably have to pay the men to climb on top of you!”
Suddenly Katherine remembered standing in the red hallway, remembered quite clearly the elegant stranger who had rescued her—but of course, there had been a thin blade concealed in his cane; he had stabbed that man. That room, all velvet and mirrors, filled with men and half-naked women.
“Wait a minute!” she snapped, her old self returning with a rush, and the woman looked slightly taken aback. “Where am I? Why did that man bring me here?”
“Can’t you guess? You are in a bordello, dearie. And he brought you here to set you up in business.”
“You are mad! I’m not a—a—”
“No?” she jeered. “Well, you soon will be. Ain’t you never heard of white slavery?”
“No.” Katherine shook her head in bewilderment. “What are you talking about?”
Her guest cackled. “My, but ain’t you the innocent! Well, that won’t last long, either.”
“Hazel!” a strident voice cracked out in the hall. “What are you doing in there? Get out this instant!”
The girl’s face changed instantly, became younger, fearful, and she scampered out of the room. The owner of the voice loomed in the doorway. A massive woman, tightly corseted, swathed in purple. Her face was a mask of paint, her hair brassy gold, her skin sagging from age. Heavy rings covered her fingers and jeweled bracelets encased her fleshy arms; a ridiculous lavender feather was stuck in the stiff mass of her hair and curled down against her cheek. Katherine choked back a hysterical giggle. What a comical sight she was and yet, strangely, how frightening. She swung the door to behind her and advanced into the room.
“I’m Pearl,” she said in a voice to match her bulk. “This is my house and now you are one of my girls.”
“I haven’t the faintest notion what you’re talking about,” Katherine said haughtily.
“Oh, my, high and mighty now, ain’t we, girl? Mind you, you be careful now or I’ll have to turn you over to Parker. In general, he ain’t too fond of girls, preferring little boys, if you catch my meaning.” She winked lewdly.
“No, I don’t,” Katherine said flatly.
“But he don’t dislike a little taming job, now and then, when one of the girls gets too uppity. American, ain’t you? I could tell by your voice.” She sighed and shook her head. “Never got a Yankee girl before, but I hear they’re fearful independent. But,” she brightened, “we’ll soon take that out of you.”
“Mrs.—Pearl, I’m afraid you have made a dreadful mistake. My name is Katherine Devereaux, and my father owns a shipyard in Boston. My disappearance will not go unnoticed, and my father is not a good man to cross. I suggest you release me before you get into serious trouble.”
The harridan cackled. “Nice try, lovie, but I don’t believe a word of it. Parker told me you were running away from prison.”
“Not from prison. I was a prisoner, but illegally. I am from Boston, and a Confederate raider kidnapped me. And when we docked here, I escaped. Don’t you see? The Union Navy is searching for me and no doubt the English authorities, too. Not to mention Captain Hampton, the man I escaped from.”
The woman listened, faintly smiling, as if she were being told a very entertaining story. “My, my, you are an important little girl, aren’t you? The Union Navy is looking for you; the Confederates are looking for you; the English are looking for you. Why, half the countries of the world seem to want you! Don’t worry; I’m sure you will be just as big a hit here, too.”
“You dolt!” Katherine said wrathfully. “I’m telling you the truth. Hampton will be furious at my leaving and will not rest until he finds me. And I can guarantee that when he does and finds you’ve harmed me, he will be enraged. He’ll—he’ll kill you. He has a vicious temper and no compassion at all; he won’t hesitate to shoot you.”
“Then I should think you should be the one in fear of him, seeing as how you ran away from him. Besides, I think you think a little highly of yourself, if you imagine he’s going to be so hot and bothered because you’ve thrown him over. Much more likely, I should think, to bury his sorrow in a fling with a few waterfront doxies. Besides, even if he did look for you, he could never find you here. Nobody is ever found once they enter the ‘Pool docks. Even the police daren’t venture here, except to collect their bribes, of course.”
Katherine tried to hide the ice-cold stab of fear that went through her, but the old witch caught it and smiled. “That’s right, dearie, you just think of it for a while and I think you will begin to see reason. I shall just leave you alone with your thoughts now.”
She left, closing the door behind her with an ominous click. Katherine raised her chin mutinously and whispered, “He will come. He will.”
Of course he would find her; the old hag was simply trying to frighten her. Yet nagging doubts crept into her mind. She remembered how she had stormed at him the last time he saw her. He was in London, no doubt surrounded by women who fawned on him. Probably he regretted not letting her go. Wasn’t it likely that when he saw the beauties of London he would laugh and realize that prison had so starved him for women he had thought her beautiful when she wasn’t at all really? And when Peljo told him she had gone, wouldn’t he just heave a sigh of relief?
“No,” she whispered fiercely. “No!” No matter what he thought of her, no matter how cold and cruel he was to her, his pride would be wounded because she had escaped, outwitted him. He would search for her simply because he wouldn’t be able to stand to let her best him. He would come; he would. And Pearl underestimated him. He could find her. Maybe no one else dared venture here, but Matthew would. Matthew would search for her, comb the docks—and Peljo, and his friend who had trapped Dr. Rackingham, and the crew. He would find her; of course he would. She summoned up a picture of him, hard and lean and brown, his eyes as cold and gray as the Atlantic. Oh, no, Pearl just did
n’t know Matthew, or she could not be so confident.
Katherine closed her eyes. “Matthew, please, please, you must come.” Oh, why had she ever left? She pressed her fist against her lips to choke back a sob. “I’ll be good,” she whispered. “I will do anything you want. Only, please, please come.”
She lay paralyzed by fear and doubt. Time crept by, and she was left alone. Hunger began to gnaw at her, and still no one came. She left her bed and crept to the door; it was firmly locked; so were the shutters on the window. She searched the room thoroughly and could find her dress and shoes nowhere in it. Why didn’t they bring her any food? Or water? She was dying of thirst. Did they intend to murder her slowly like this? Oh, God, what was to become of her? Matthew was far away in London; when he learned that she was missing, what if he were with a girl, what if he casually tossed aside the message and continued making love to the girl? Oh, how bitterly she regretted not giving in to him. If only she had not been so stubborn—she would be with him right now, safely snuggled up in his arms in some bed in London, miles and miles away.
The pale light that seeped in around the shutters gradually faded away and she was left alone in utter darkness. She curled up on the bed. Sternly she told herself that she must not give way to her fear. She pretended she was back on the ship, lying against Matthew’s chest. She felt his even breath ruffle her hair, felt his smooth skin against her cheek, heard the gentle rumble of his breathing. Softly she slid into sleep.
Katherine was awakened by the tepid light creeping in through the shutters. She sat up and looked around the room. Her head felt much clearer and her hunger seemed to sharpen her senses. The terror of the night before was gone. They had been trying to frighten her, of course. Weaken her so that she would accept her fate without a fuss. She grimaced; they would discover that Katherine Devereaux was not so weak.
Assessing the situation calmly, she felt that Hampton would look for her; his pride would not let him permit a mere girl to defeat him. And knowing him, he might very well be able to find her. The thing to do was to hold fast until he showed up, and in the meantime wait for an opportunity to escape, just in case she had calculated wrong and he did not bother to look for her or could not find her or found her too late.
The major problem was time. If she could just stave them off long enough—she smiled faintly. Her thoughts were so similar to those right after Hampton abducted her; only then he had been the villain and now he was the rescuer. Mentally she shook herself—this was no time to dwell on the oddities of fate. How long had she been here? It had been evening when Parker knocked her out with that foul-smelling stuff—chloroform? Light when she awoke—must have been the next day. Then another night. And now it was day again. A full day and two nights. How long would it take Hampton to find her? No doubt Peljo would look for her before he notified the captain; he would want to find her and not have to report to Hampton that he had lost her. A few hours, perhaps, and then he would telegraph Hampton. There probably would not be a train until morning. That meant that Hampton arrived the afternoon or evening before. No doubt Peljo would have checked out the logical places for her to go—the train, the police, and so on—and they would have decided that something had happened to her in this area. They would begin searching, asking questions, tavern by tavern. She felt a flash of despair; it would take forever! She must escape. If only Peljo had given her that promised knife—or if she had thought to take the little gun that she had used against Hampton.
First she took a pin from her hair and worked assiduously at the lock. At last it clicked and she felt a brief moment of triumph, but the door still would not budge. There must be a bolt on the other side, and there was nothing she could do about that. Disheartened, she moved on to the shutters. The lock would not open. Then she remembered her hoop which had been tossed carelessly on the floor when they undressed her. Quickly she ripped out the hem and pulled out the thin whalebone band and managed to break off a piece which she used to pry open the shutters. Three of the whalebone pieces snapped before the shutters gave way. The window they revealed was small and so grimy with soot and dirt that she could barely see out. She did manage to see that the window looked out upon the blank wall of another building less than three feet away and that between was a sheer drop of at least three stories. She sat down and almost burst into tears. No way out, unless she could manage to slip out sometime when they entered or left the room. Heaven knows how she would manage to get out of the house undetected. Well, she would worry about that impossibility when it came up. Right now, she must face the impossibility of getting out the door.
First, she needed a weapon. She roamed the room. No washbowl or pitcher. No mirror to smash for its sharp pieces. Not even a small chair to hurl. Obviously they knew their business. Katherine sighed in exasperation. Then suddenly she rushed to the bed, knelt, and crawled under it, emerging a moment later with a sturdy bed slat. That would stun one or two people, she thought triumphantly. But she mustn’t use it until the last possible moment. She slid it back out of sight under the bed.
A few minutes later the door opened to admit Pearl, who was today dressed in shrieking orange. “Well, dearie,” she said cheerfully, “are you in a more cooperative mood this morning?”
Katherine lifted her chin in a manner that Matthew would have easily recognized. “Don’t think you can starve me into submission. I am not that easy.”
“No, I dare swear you’re not. You seem like a sensible girl, not one of these weak, silly fools. So let me put this to you sensibly. You are a very pretty girl, but has it ever gotten you anywhere? Of course not. Nothing but a lot of heartache. But here, dearie, with my aid, you could make a fortune from that body of yours. I give you good, decent food, a place to live, pretty clothes, and a nice bit of spending money. A smart girl like you, before long you’ll have grabbed some wealthy old joker and be sailing off as his mistress. Now ain’t that better than spending your time with men like your captain?”
“Your proposal does have merit,” Katherine conceded coolly. “But I dislike being pawed by all those different men.”
“Pshaw, chit, it won’t be any worse than what you normally go through for free. Some of ‘em can even be real gentlemanly sometimes.”
“Give me some time to think it over.”
“All right. I’ll give you an hour to decide. But if you decide wrong, I shall have to turn you over to Parker, and, believe me, you’ll wish I hadn’t.”
Chapter 13
Hampton turned and stalked off toward his cabin. He felt sick with anger and disappointment. His head throbbed violently and his stomach churned. Damn her. He decided to get good and thoroughly drunk. Lock himself in his cabin with its painful memories of her and get blind drunk, wallow in his hurt. And then he would proceed to forget her, the cold, spiteful wench. What a fool he had been to let her get so close to him, to let her sink her nails into him like this.
Peljo stood for a moment in indecision, his worry about Katherine warring with the fear his captain’s enraged face arose in him. He gulped, crossed his fingers, and hurried after Hampton.
“Sir! Cap’n! Just a minute, sir.”
Hampton paused and turned toward the little man, his face and stance exuding irritation and impatience. “Good God, man, what now?”
“The thing is, Cap’n, I’m worried about Miss Katherine.”
“Worried about her?” Matthew laughed shortly. “I think there’s one who is quite capable of taking care of herself.”
“Please, sir, just listen to me. I have been looking for her ever since she escaped last night and she hasn’t turned up anywhere.”
“Surely you don’t think she would let herself be found so easily.”
“But wouldn’t you figure she would go straight to the police, sir? We have checked all the police stations and not a word of her.”
“Well, after the British didn’t come storming to her rescue, no doubt she mistrusts them. She probably went straight to the embassy.”
“No; I checked there, too. And I’ve got two men at the train depot, and she’s not there, either. And I personally went to every hotel where the likes of Miss Katherine might go, and she has taken a room in none of them. And she’s one who would be remembered, sir. This morning, I thought, ‘Of course, she just went straight down the dock to a Union ship.’ So I checked, and there’s not a Yankee ship in the harbor.”
Matthew frowned, his anger turning to apprehension. “Perhaps she knows someone who lives in Liverpool, some shipping acquaintance of her father’s.”
Peljo looked at him skeptically. “Then why didn’t she tell the old doctor to go to them? They would have swung more weight with the Limeys than him.”
“So you think something’s happened to her.”
“Well, sir, it was evening when she escaped. Going through the docks of Liverpool at night like that—why, she didn’t even take that little popgun of hers with her. There’s no telling what could happen to her—she could be raped or kidnapped into white slavery or—” He stopped abruptly.
“Or murdered,” Matthew finished grimly. He stood for a moment, staring off into space, his eyes as cold and hard as glass. “Gather up the crew, and enlist the aid of that friend of yours, incompetent though he is. Keep the watch at the depot and put some of the men to checking the pawnshops for that engagement ring of hers. She will need money if she’s all right, and if she’s not, they would take her jewelry and sell it. Everyone else is to comb this area looking for her. Every street, every alley, every bar. And this time I will not brook failure.”
“Yes, sir.” Peljo scurried off.
Hampton closed his eyes and leaned against the railing for support. There was a cold, hard knot of fear in his stomach. At this moment she might be dead or hurt or locked in some dingy little room, half-crazy with terror. And if she was, it would be his fault. He had brought her here, driven her to make a desperate attempt at escape. If anything happened to her, he was to blame.
Gregory, Lisa Page 24
