Too Far to Whisper

by Arianna Eastland

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  In the tomb-like darkness of the cargo hold, Shadow changed into dry clothing. Gaining access to the Conway, as he had anticipated, had been accomplished with relative ease. Holding his pack above his head with one hand, he had sliced sideways through the icy water as quickly and as silently as an eel, the night’s blackness concealing his approach. Upon reaching the stern, he had removed the long coil of rope from around his neck and used it to climb up to the deck. The few crew members who had remained aboard the vessel were gathered at the bow. None noticed the Indian as he crept along the deck and quietly disappeared through the main hatch.

  The cargo hold was stacked with thick timber, mostly pine, Shadow guessed, judging from the scent of it, for the darkness severely restricted his vision. In a far corner of the hold, well concealed behind a wall of timber, he spread out his blanket and lay on it. Silence, save for the scurrying patter of rats, and dampness hung about him. No English gaol, Shadow decided, could be worse than this self-made floating prison. He was thankful his confinement was to be but a brief one. Had his destination truly been England, he held no doubt he would have jumped ship only minutes after he had set foot on it.

  Locking his hands beneath his head, he closed his eyes and attempted to shut out all but the gentle rocking of the ship as the waves rolled into shore. Rosalind’s image immediately invaded his thoughts and senses, filling him with an aching need to touch her silky skin…to taste the sweetness of her lips. Too vividly he recalled the tear-filled blue eyes that had watched him depart, and a pang of remorse stabbed at him. Although he had left her barely an hour ago, already he was missing her more than he ever could have imagined.

  * * * * *

  The light of the moon silhouetted the three women, chattering and giggling like a group of young schoolgirls, as they approached the gangplank of the Conway.

  “Who goes there?” the boatswain who was positioned at the top of the plank called out. He held a lantern at shoulder height, to gain a better look. He was a giant of a man with a pocked complexion and auburn hair pulled back and tied at the nape of his neck. His arms seemed as massive as tree trunks.

  “We ladies got to thinkin’ how lonely you might be, left here on the ship while your mates are makin’ merry in town,” the tallest of the trio, a striking raven-haired young woman, said to him. Her long lashes fluttered demurely. “Might you be cravin’ a bit o’ company?”

  His interest piqued, the boatswain arched a thick brow at the trio. “There are five of us aboard,” he said.

  The raven-haired woman chuckled. “Why, ‘tis barely enough to keep me busy, ne’er mind my two friends, here.” She waved her hand in the direction of the two attractive blondes. “We even brought a bit o’ libation with us from the tavern.”

  Licking his thick lips, the boatswain hesitated, his expression etched with indecision. Turning his head, he shouted over his shoulder, “Frederick! Thomas!”

  The two men answering to those names immediately appeared, flanking the auburn-haired giant on either side.

  “It appears we have guests,” the boatswain informed the men as he nodded toward the women. “They wish to…entertain…us on our last night here in port.”

  Two pairs of hungry eyes devoured the unexpected guests.

  “How much?” the shorter sailor, round-faced with a thick mustache, inquired.

  The raven-haired woman shrugged and smiled seductively. “Any gratuity, kind sirs, would be gratefully accepted. But truth be told, on this special eve, we shall deny no man, whether he has coin or not.” Her eyes burned into the boatswain’s, all but promising him a night of passion far beyond his most erotic imaginings.

  Following brief, sidelong glances at his two shipmates, the auburn-haired man swooped into an exaggerated bow and announced, “Welcome aboard the Conway, ladies. I am Joshua Ward.”

  The procession of hip-swaying females quickly ascended the gangplank. Upon reaching the top, the raven-haired woman extended a gloved hand to Joshua and cooed, “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Ward. I’m Molly.” She turned to nod over her shoulder. “The buxom one is Kate and the younger one is Rachel.”

  Beneath the men’s unblinking perusal, Kate opened her cloak and flashed a brief, yet sufficiently enticing view of her ample bosom, which strained against her low-cut bodice. Rachel offered no more than a shy smile.

  “Allow us to escort you below deck,” Joshua offered, his voice husky. “Scant time remains ere the rest of the men return.”

  Molly slipped her arm through his and pressed her hip against his side. “Ooh, you are so big and strong,” she said. She ran her hand down the inside of his massive arm. “You must be very powerful!”

  “Aye,” Joshua answered, his chin rising. “You will soon come to know the full extent of my power.” He paused to call over his shoulder, “Frederick, remain up here on deck and keep watch. When I get below, I shall send up Caleb to take your place.”

  Frederick, his arm firmly around Kate’s waist, halted abruptly and frowned. “I do not want to remain up here!” His voice sounded like a childlike whine. He was a lanky man who looked barely twenty, with thick black hair, tiny eyes, and a nose that overwhelmed his slender face. “I want to go with you…and the ladies.”

  “And leave the deck unguarded?” He cocked a brow at him. “I think not!”

  Heaving a frustrated sigh, Frederick pulled away from Kate and folded his arms. His bottom lip jutted forward in a pout. “I had better not be kept waiting long,” he grumbled.

  “Fear not.” Joshua’s tone held amusement as he continued to walk across the deck. “Your sweet Kate shall remain untouched until your arrival.”

  Laughing, Joshua raised his lantern and then he and Thomas led the three women down to the crew’s quarters, a dark, dank chamber lined with what appeared to be built-in wooden shelves or platforms with mats on them – the crew’s beds.

  Joshua immediately shouted orders at the two young men within, sending them scampering off to the main deck. He then climbed onto one of the beds and pulled Molly down on top of him. The platform seemed far too narrow and short in length to accommodate the sailor’s bulk.

  “Now, now, do not be so eager!” Molly scolded, flashing a teasing smile at the giant as she playfully shoved at his chest. “’Tis only fair that we wait for Frederick.”

  “And share a bit o’ drink first!” Kate added, retrieving a flask from beneath her cloak and holding it up.

  “’Tis not a drink I crave,” Joshua responded, his lust-filled gaze fastening on Molly’s full, red lips. Grasping the woman roughly by the back of the neck, he planted a wet, open-mouthed kiss on her. Not wishing to incite the brute’s ire, Molly returned the kiss with feigned passion, running her fingers through his hair and moaning into his mouth.

  “Have I missed anything?” Frederick’s breathless voice interrupted. Molly welcomed the diversion, using it to temporarily free herself from Joshua’s iron grasp.

  “I missed you,” Kate cooed, extending her arms toward him.

  He smiled and moved to slide his arm around her waist, his eyes fastening on her cleavage. “I am eager to discover just how greatly you did.”

  “First, a drink, to properly celebrate!” Kate said, thrusting the flask into Frederick’s hand and leading him to one of the beds.

  Molly followed her lead, withdrawing her own flask and pressing it to Joshua’s lips. Propping himself up on one elbow, he grabbed the flask from her hand and drained half of its contents before returning it to her. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gazed hungrily at the raven-haired temptress. “Now, let us see how well you can pleasure me on my last night here in port!” His voice invited no argument. “I can wait no longer.”

  He lay back. “Remove my breeches,” he ordered.

  Molly complied, moving to stand next to the platform and then lifting Joshua’s shirt well above his waist before her slim fingers set to work on loosening the ties that held his breeches. When t
he task had been accomplished, she tugged at the garment, which refused to budge beneath the man’s enormous bulk. “Lift up your bottom,” she demanded.

  Her request was met with a loud snore.

  “Joshua!” Molly called, gently shaking him by the shoulders. “Are you asleep?” His even breathing and lack of response confirmed that he was.

  Slowly, Molly turned to look at her two companions. “Well?” She arched a painted brow.

  “Mine’s asleep!” Kate said, smiling.

  “How about yours?” Molly’s eyes cut toward Rachel.

  “Out like a candle flame in a windstorm,” she said, releasing a long sigh of relief. “That sleeping potion works quickly!”

  “An old Indian recipe!” Molly said with a wink. “When I first set eyes on Joshua here, I thought I might need a bucket of the potion to fell him!” She tossed a brief, wary glance at his snoring form. “Nevertheless, I believe ‘tis best if you hasten from here while the opportunity presents itself, Rachel. Once you have fled, we shall make certain the two men up on deck are given the same fond attention their mates received.”

  “Are you certain you will be all right?” Rachel asked, hesitating.

  “Do not concern yourself,” Kate assured her with a chuckle. “Molly and I shall be fine. We have had years of experience in handling sailors.”

  “I cannot thank you enough for your help,” Rachel said, turning to look at each woman. “I only wish I could return the favor in kind.”

  “Shoo now!” Molly ordered, waving her hands in a gesture of dismissal. “Your time grows short!’ She narrowed her eyes at Rachel. “You have not changed your mind, have you?”

  “Nay,” Rachel answered. “I hold no doubt whatsoever that my decision is the right one.”

  * * * * *

  Shadow awakened abruptly from his fitful sleep and sat up. Something had disturbed the silence of the cargo hold – not a noise or a movement, but a presence. He could feel it surrounding him, yet, as he squinted into the inky darkness, could detect nothing. Resting his hand on the knife at his waist, he held his breath and waited. Why anyone would choose to roam the hold at this late hour without the benefit of a lantern or candle made no sense, but Shadow’s instincts rarely were wrong. Someone was there.

  He heard it then, a footfall, followed slowly by another one. The intruder, Shadow deduced, was not familiar with the layout of the hold. Could it be possible, he wondered, that it was another stowaway?

  “Shadow?” a voice whispered. It clearly contained fear. “Are you in here? I cannot see a thing.”

  Shadow shook his head to clear the fragments of sleep that still remained. The voice sounded like that of his sweet Rosalind, yet he knew it could not be. He wondered if his self-imposed isolation already was taking its toll on his sanity.

  “Shadow?” the voice again whispered from a good distance away, its pitch markedly higher. “Please, if you are within, answer me!”

  Silently, Shadow rose to his feet and felt his way around the pile of timber that formed the barrier of his corner hideaway. “Rosalind?” he softly asked, still thinking he might be hallucinating. He kept his hand on his knife.

  “Aye!” the voice returned with breathless relief. “Dear Lord, where are you?”

  “Make your way to the wall at your left,” he instructed. “You will find a narrow aisle there. Follow the wall to the rear of the hold.”

  Rosalind did as she was told, carefully feeling her way along the wall as she futilely struggled to see. At one point, she felt something scamper across her foot, forcing her to bite back a scream, but even the fear of vermin did not weaken her determination to be with Shadow. She had come this far, and she was not about to turn back.

  Minutes that seemed like hours passed before Rosalind at last reached the rear of the hold. She paused, her hand pressed against the wall to brace herself. “Shadow?” she whispered, suppressing a sudden shiver of fear.

  “I am here,” he answered. Although she could not see him in the darkness, she felt his hand grasp her arm.

  “Oh, Shadow!” she breathed, reaching out to embrace him. “Thank God I am not too late!” The moment she felt his arms tighten around her, his warm breath against her hair, she knew she was where she belonged.

  Without speaking, Shadow broke away from her and took her hand, then led her to his blanket. He seated himself and pulled her down beside him. The darkness prevented Rosalind from seeing his expression, so she was unable to determine whether he was pleased or angered by her unanticipated arrival.

  “How came you to be here?” he asked her, his voice revealing little.

  Rosalind giggled nervously. “I do not think you will approve of my explanation once you hear it.”

  “Probably not,” he said. “But tell me.”

  “Nathaniel once mentioned to me,” she began, “that every time his ship docked in a port, ladies would visit his cabin and offer their…favors. So when I was attempting to think of some way to gain access to this ship, the idea came to me that I could pretend to be one of those…ladies. Adam provided me with the money and I sought the aid of two…doxies…to help me carry out my plan. I told them my name was Rachel, and my betrothed, a sailor, had been falsely accused of a crime and was imprisoned in the ship’s brig…and I wanted to free him ere the ship set sail.”

  Shadow’s silence made her feel uneasy. She took a deep breath before continuing. “There were but five men aboard, and their eagerness for female companionship made them easy prey. We offered them a drink from our flasks…laced with a goodly amount of sleeping potion. Molly said it was an old Indian recipe! Do you know of it?”

  An awkward silence hung between them before Shadow finally responded. “What you did was both foolish and dangerous.” His tone was icy. “Adam gave me his solemn promise that he would see to your safety. I see now that I was wrong to put my trust in the man.”

  “Do not place blame on Adam,” Rosalind said softly. She reached for Shadow’s hand and wrapped her fingers around his. “His only desire was to see me happy.” She drew a shaky breath. “The moment you left me this eve, such a terrible feeling of loss overcame me, I could do naught but weep. ‘Twas Adam who convinced me to follow my heart.” She wished a ray of light magically would appear and enable her to search Shadow’s face for clues to his feelings.

  When Shadow offered no response, Rosalind whispered, “Please, leave this ship with me posthaste, while the men are still sleeping off the effects of the potion, ere their mates return. I told Nathaniel you were headed west. So perhaps now we can safely go to New France.”

  Although Rosalind’s use of the word we when referring to any future travel greatly pleased Shadow, something else in her statement held the opposite effect. “You spoke with Nathaniel?” he asked tightly. “When?”

  Rosalind imagined his jaw muscles tensing as he posed the question. “This eve, shortly after your departure. He came seeking Adam’s advice because he had heard he was somewhat of a local authority on Indians. You can well imagine Nathaniel’s shock when he found me there!”

  “And what was the captain’s reaction upon seeing you?”

  Rosalind hesitated, not certain how much of the evening’s events she should disclose. “He was pleased…very pleased.”

  Instinctively, Shadow sensed the reason for her reluctance to answer. “Did he attempt to…”

  “Aye,” she cut him off before he could complete the question. When she felt Shadow’s fingers tighten beneath hers, she hastened to add, “But ‘twas my good fortune Adam arrived home from the tavern when he did and he abruptly cooled Nathaniel’s ardor. Nathaniel wished to stay the night at Adam’s, but Adam wisely refused him and directed him to the inn. But Nathaniel said he would return for me in the morning to escort me back to Eastwell so that we may be…wed.”

  “And if you are not there when Nathaniel returns, how will Adam explain your absence?”

  “I believe he intends to tell him you returned for me and dragged me off i
n the night,” she answered. “Adam is confident that as long as the Corwins believe I am a victim, no harm will come to my family.”

  Shadow sighed and shook his head. The few hours he had spent in the dank, lightless hold had been more than sufficient to convince him he could bear little more of the confinement before he went mad. Even a short voyage to Boston now seemed unthinkable. Still, he was reluctant to flee the ship with Rosalind. To do so might increase the danger of her being discovered as his accomplice, especially with Nathaniel lurking about.

  “If I leave with you,” Shadow said evenly, “what then?” He still was not certain exactly how – or where – he fit into Rosalind’s future plans.

  “We shall be together,” she stated simply. “That is all that matters.”

  Shadow found himself at a loss for words. Although he desperately wished to believe that Rosalind’s feelings for him were as deep as her actions professed them to be, he could not dismiss the suspicion that her sudden, urgent need to seek him out aboard the ship may have been a result of her encounter with Nathaniel earlier that evening – especially if the captain had frightened her in some way.

  “Please, Shadow,” Rosalind pleaded, her voice interrupting his thoughts. “If we are to leave this ship, we must do so now! The rest of the crew shall soon return.” She hesitated before adding, “Unless you still wish to journey to England…alone?”

  “I have no desire to go there,” he quietly responded.

  His admission afforded Rosalind a small measure of relief. “Then come,” she urged him, rising to her feet and tugging on his arm. “We must hasten back to Adam’s. Once there, we can decide what to do next.”

  She left Shadow little choice. He could not allow her to return to Adam’s unescorted in the middle of the night, especially with scores of drunken sailors wandering about, nor could he allow her to remain aboard the ship with him. He reached out and felt the floor around him, gathering his belongings, then stood. “I hope we have not already waited too long,” he said.