Capture My Heart

by Bobbi Smith

  Facing up to the facts, Serad made his decision. In loving Tori, he would have to put her needs ahead of his. He would have to care for her before himself. He would have to give her what she most wanted—her freedom, and then when she had it, he would ask her to stay with him and be his wife. Serad knew he would eventually have to tell her the rest of his life's story, but he would do that later after everything had been settled between them.

  His outlook much improved, Serad left his cabin to seek out Hasim and Tariq. He found his second-in-command first.

  "Tariq! Is there any way to hurry the repairs on the Scimitar so we can put into Algiers more quickly?" Serad asked, a fire burning hotly within him now that he had made up his mind what to do. He felt he couldn't possibly get home to Tori fast enough. He was sorry now that he had been so terse with her before he'd left, and he knew he would have to apologize for that before he did anything else. But that didn't matter, all that mattered was seeing her again, holding her close and telling her of his love.

  "We're doing all we can, Serad," his friend responded. "Why the sudden urgency to return home?"

  "Yes, my brother, could it be that there is a special reason why you are in such a hurry to get back?" Hasim asked as he joined them where they stood by the rail near the helm.

  "You could say that," Serad answered with an easy smile.

  Both Tariq and Hasim were surprised by his complete change in attitude. An hour or so before, Serad had been surly. Now, he seemed almost mild-mannered.

  "What's happened since you went belowdecks to improve your mood so much?"

  "What happened is that I made a decision, and now I have only to follow through on it."

  "A decision about Tori?" Hasim inquired.

  He nodded. "I love her and I have made up my mind to ask her to be my wife."

  "She is a beautiful woman," Tariq said agreeably, thinking of just how lovely she'd looked that evening when she'd come rushing uninvited into Serad's quarters. "A trifle headstrong, but I think you're man enough for the challenge."

  "I'm sure he is," Hasim agreed.

  Serad was pleased by their confidence in him. Yet, despite the passionate time he and Tori had spent at the oasis, he couldn't help but worry that when he offered her her freedom she would eagerly leave him and flee Algiers to return to the fiancé she claimed to love. The prospect haunted him, but he held firm in his resolve. Serad just wished his ship were undamaged so they could make the trip in more haste.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  When Oma and Zena had discovered Tori and Jonesey's disappearance the morning after Almira secreted them out of the harem, they'd been frantic to find them. They had enlisted the help of Serad's other servants in the search, but all to no avail. The two women had disappeared into the city without a trace, and Oma and Zena knew there would be trouble when Serad returned home and found out about it. They were not wrong.

  Serad and Hasim met with Malik as soon as they reached Algiers to report on Muhammed's death. Though he hid it well before Malik and Hasim, Serad was uneasy during the entire audience. He was glad when it ended, and he could rush home to talk to Tori.

  Serad knew what had to be done, and he wanted to be finished with it. His servants seemed unusually nervous when he first arrived home, and it puzzled him. It didn't for long, though, for he soon found out the cause when he requested Tori to be brought to him.

  "I cannot bring her to you, Serad," his servant told him.

  "Why not? Is she refusing to come to me again?" he asked with a light-hearted chuckle. He was certain that she was probably annoyed with him for the way he'd treated her before he left, but he was ready to make amends. "Carry her here, if need be."

  "No, Serad. I cannot. It is not that she is refusing. It is that she's gone."

  "What?!"

  "Both women disappeared the day after you set sail."

  Serad stared at the man in shock. "They're gone?" he repeated to make sure he'd heard him correctly.

  "Yes. We searched the house and the city, but could find no trace of them."

  Serad's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits as he regarded him. "How did this happen?"

  "No one knows, Serad. Oma and Zena slept, as they always do. Sometime during that first night you were gone, the Englishwomen slipped from the house unobserved, and vanished. We tried everything to find them, but it was almost as if they had been wiped from the face of the earth."

  A muscle in Serad's jaw worked as he fought to control the emotions that swept through him. After the time he and Tori had spent at the oasis, he'd thought things were different between them, but obviously, he'd been wrong. Still, he couldn't imagine where Tori could have gone. She had to be close by somewhere, and if she was hidden someplace in the heart of Algiers, she could be in real danger. The idea haunted him, and he rushed from his quarters to find the two female servants and question them further. He got little satisfaction from the interview, though, for they had seen nothing and heard nothing and knew nothing.

  Stymied, Serad finally realized who he needed to talk to next. His Aunt Rabi might be able to help him. She might have an idea where Tori and Jonesey could have gone. He made his way to Malik's harem to find her.

  Since she'd heard of the Scimitar's return, Rabi had been expecting Serad to come to her. Her manner was proudly regal as she came forth from her chambers to meet with him in the gardens.

  "I see you have returned from your trip," she said almost too casually as she welcomed him back. "I've heard that your victory over Muhammed was complete."

  "His ship was destroyed," Serad confirmed.

  "That's good. I'm sure Malik is most pleased."

  "I didn't come to talk about the trip or Malik," he finally admitted. "I've come because I need to talk to you about Tori."

  "What about her?" Rabi deliberately turned her back on him and wandered over to stand by the fountain.

  Serad followed her. "Aunt Rabi, she's disappeared, and I don't know where she's gone. I thought you might be the one person in all of Algiers who might be able to help me."

  Rabi faced him, and her expression was serious as she answered him with complete honesty. "At this very moment, I would imagine she and her companion are nearly halfway home."

  "She's really gone?" Serad stared at her in shock. He didn't know what he'd expected her to say, possibly that they were hidden somewhere in the city and that he would be able to find her and get her back that very day. It took him completely by surprise to find that his aunt knew about her disappearance and that Tori was actually gone from his life.

  Rabi gave a proud lift of her chin as she met his regard. "She left Algiers shortly after you sailed."

  Serad couldn't believe it. Tori was gone. He'd never gotten the chance to offer her her freedom or to tell her of his love. His anger flared and then died as he realized quickly what he had to do. He couldn't let her go without telling her of his feelings. He had to go after her. "What ship did she sail on and when?"

  "I can't tell you that. Just let her go, Serad. Please, let her go home." She softened her plea to him.

  "I can't," he agonized, feeling desperate. How could he let Tori go when he needed her so badly?

  "But you can. There are other women who would love to be in your harem and your life . . ."

  "Aunt Rabi . . . you don't understand," he admitted painfully. "It's no longer a matter of owning Tori."

  "Then what is it a matter of, if not to bring her back by force again and keep her in your harem?" she prodded, needing to know what was truly in his heart.

  "I want her to be my wife."

  "Oh? You plan to bestow upon her the honor of being your first wife—your first wife, no doubt, of many? I remind you, my nephew, that she is not a native woman of Algiers who will meekly accept such a fate. She is English, and, as such, the concept of sharing a husband with other females is ugly and humiliating. When we marry, it is one man and one woman, and it is forever."

  "I know that, and I can accept that,
but I can't let her leave. I have to go after her, Aunt Rabi. I have to tell her how I feel."

  "And how do you feel?"

  Serad lifted troubled eyes to hers. "I love her," he confessed.

  "You love her?" Rabi was thrilled that he'd finally recognized and put the name to what he was feeling for Tori. Her eyes warmed as she gazed up at her nephew adoringly.

  "Very much, but I never had the chance to tell her. I didn't even realize it until I had time to think about everything while we were at sea this past week. That's why I have to find her. I can't let her leave without telling her how I feel about her."

  Rabi reached out to put a gentle, restraining hand on his arm. She was glad that he'd come to grips with his own emotions, but there was still Tori to consider. "But Serad . . . what if you find her and tell her of your love, and it makes no difference? What if she still wants to return to her home? Would you be able to let her go? Would you love her enough to put her happiness before your own?"

  His eyes met hers and there was no evasion when he answered, "Yes. I would. I couldn't do anything else."

  Rabi stood on tiptoes to press a loving kiss to his cheek, her heart swelling with love for him. "I do not know the name of the ship on which she sailed, but it left Algiers the day after you departed."

  Serad left his aunt and began the painstaking task of discovering which vessel Tori and Jonesey had taken from Algiers. His frustration grew as each lead turned up nothing, and he was close to fury when late in the day he finally discovered the name of the slow-moving trading vessel they'd sailed on.

  Once Serad knew the ship and its destination, he was like a man possessed, and there was no stopping him. Though the repairs to the Scimitar had been started, there was not enough time to fully restore her for the voyage. Serad didn't care. He calculated that the other ship's speed would still be far slower than theirs even with the damage and that they should be able to catch up to them long before they made landfall in England. He sent a brief message to Malik and Hasim explaining his plan of action and without bothering to wait for a reply sailed from the harbor that very night.

  Captain Demorest of the British navy's frigate, Bellwether, heeded his lookout's call that a ship had been spotted on the horizon. Ever on the alert for raiders plying the heavily trafficked trading routes, they plotted an intercept course.

  As the Englishmen prepared to intercept and identify them, Serad was watching them with a sense of great unease. The Scimitar had been at sea for almost two weeks now and had not met any other vessels. Serad had been pleased and had hoped it would stay that way until they found Tori. This appearance of the British navy ship worried him. His ship was still not at full speed or maneuverability. He did not want a fight that would end in a sure loss. He valued his men and his ship far too much to put them at such risk. He only wanted to find the merchantman and get his woman back, but it looked like fate had taken that simple course of action from him and replaced it with a far more dangerous one.

  "Shall we change course to avoid them?" Tariq asked as he came to his reis's side.

  Serad grew angry and frustrated as he considered his few alternatives. "Yes, but don't do anything that would draw their suspicion."

  Tariq hurried to do as he'd directed, leaving Serad alone. Serad wanted to avoid a confrontation at all costs. They would continue on as quietly as possible and hope the other vessel made no attempt to stop them.

  Serad's hope to slip peacefully away was dashed when Captain Demorest finally realized just who he had in his sights and went after them with a fire in his blood. Knowing they could not risk a fight, Serad raced to the helm to join Tariq.

  "Shall we ready the guns, Serad Reis?" one of his men asked, ready to fight the English with all their might.

  "No!" he ordered curtly, a heavy mantle of guilt settling on him. Had he given more thought to his men's safety he would not have rushed off after Tori as he had in a damaged ship. It was too late to deal with that, though. He could only try to escape the British frigate.

  "No?" His crew was shocked.

  "It would be suicide. We'll try to outrun and outmaneuver them. It's our one chance."

  He and Tariq shared a worried look and then concentrated on matters at hand, pushing thoughts of Tori from his mind.

  The moment Captain Demorest had identified the Scimitar, there had been no turning back. They'd heard of the ship and its master, and they were determined to see it off the high seas once and for all.

  "Bring our guns to bear, men!" Demorest ordered as the Bellwether steadily gained on their prey.

  The Scimitar's slowness puzzled him. Every rumor he'd heard about the vessel had mentioned its speed. This sluggishness made him cautious and all the more ready to use force. Serad was known for his remarkable seamanship, and Demorest didn't want to find out the hard way that the slow speed was just a ruse and all the tales of his sailing prowess had been true.

  "Fire when ready!" Demorest followed up, wondering, too, why the corsairs were trying to get away. Everything he'd ever heard about them had led him to believe that they would turn and fight.

  The Bellwether's guns roared into action. On board the Scimitar, Tariq looked to Serad for orders.

  "Shall we return their fire?"

  "No. Hard astarboard. Let's see if there's not still another way we can get out of this."

  His men rushed to do as they were told. All knew the Scimitar was still not capable of her normal full speed or of her usual quick maneuverability and that they would have to rely on Serad Reis's abilities and a lot of luck to get them through this.

  With Serad at the helm shouting out orders, they eluded the British barrages time after time. It was only through his superb ability to predict the English captain's moves that they managed to stay untouched by the vicious and continual attacks. But it was their lack of manageability that finally doomed them, for the Bellwether unleashed a broadside that tore through their riggings and left them completely dead in the water.

  Serad was sickened by their defeat and by the knowledge that his own impulsive decision to leave port before the repairs had been completed had led them to this end.

  "Shall we fight them, Serad Reis?" his men wanted to know.

  Serad and Tariq watched the frigate draw near and saw them preparing their grappling hooks. They knew they were capable of killing more than their share of the British sailors if a fracas would erupt, but in the end there was still no way they could win.

  "No. Don't offer any resistance," Serad called out. "There has been no bloodshed so far. Let's keep it that way."

  Captain Demorest couldn't believe that he was actually about to board the infamous Scimitar. His ship and crew were the best, and he was proud of their effort. Even as he admired his own men's work in defeating the other vessel, he couldn't help but admire the actions of the other captain. He had never seen such a display of excellent seamanship. It was obvious the ship had sustained some kind of damage and was not capable of normal sailing, and he knew it was for that reason and that reason alone that he had won the victory that day.

  When Demorest reached the deck of the Scimitar, he looked for the man who was the captain. He spied Serad standing regally near the helm and knew just by his bearing that he was the one. He noticed that each crew member was heavily armed with a scimitar and a pistol, but none of the weapons were raised in attack.

  "Are you captain of this ship?"

  "I am Serad. reis of the Scimitar," he answered proudly.

  "I am Captain Demorest, and I am placing you under arrest," he announced. He studied the man who stood before him, wondering at his nationality, for though he bore an Algerian name, he certainly didn't look North African. "Mr. Fox . . ."

  At his command, one of his men came forth with irons and fastened them on Serad's wrists and ankles.

  "What of my men and my ship?"

  "Your men will be taken before the magistrate and he will decide their fate. Your ship is now the property of the Crown."

/>   Serad nodded tersely. He was relieved that his men didn't face immediate death, but his relief did little to ease the pain of his failure. He knew he would not fare as well as his men, and the thought of losing the Scimitar was second only to the realization that he would never sec Ton again.

  Demorest studied the man standing before him. It seemed a terrible waste to put such an excellent strategist and sailor in chains and take him back to what he was sure would eventually be his execution, but he knew Serad was no ordinary sailor. He was a famous corsair who had wreaked havoc on the seas for many years. There would be many back in London who would celebrate his capture and his death.

  Giving orders for the men of the Scimitar to be similarly bound, he set up one of his own officers with a skeleton crew to sail the wounded captive ship behind the Bellwether on the trek back to London. Their going would be slow on this their return trip, but the end acclaim would be worth it.

  It was two days later when a merchant ship that traded regularly with Algiers passed the slow-moving Bellwether on its way to England with the captured Scimitar sailing behind it. Knowing Malik Dey would want to know of it, they increased their speed for that Barbary State.

  Tori and Jonesey could hardly believe it as the shores of England came into view. They had made it back home safely! Their relief was tremendous, and they weren't sure whether to laugh or cry at this first sight of their homeland.

  "What do we do once we reach port, Miss Victoria?" Jonesey asked.

  "The good Fathers gave us enough money to hire a conveyance, Jonesey, so I think we should leave the ship immediately and go to my grandfather's townhouse in the city."

  "But what if he isn't there?"

  "It won't matter. There's always a staff in residence, and if he's not in London, I'm sure they'll know where he can be reached."

  Excitement shivered through both women as they waited for the ship to be tied up and the gangplank lowered. They hired a carriage without difficulty and were whisked away from the ugliness of the dockside life.