So Worthy My Love

by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

  Strangely none of the men seemed to doubt her efficacy. Indeed, they had every reason to believe her, for the maid had already proven herself an uncommonly tenacious example of womanhood.

  Captain Von Reijn’s heels came together with a loud click, and he bowed briefly as a deep chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Again I must beg yur apologies, vrouwelin. I had no hint of yur frailty and only sought to give aid.”

  “Frailty, indeed!” Hefting the staff, Elise turned it slowly in front of her. “I will show you frailty, the sort from which you will beg relief. You may slay me here and now, whether by blade or halberd.” Her eyes marked the two weapons hanging on a wall, then a feral gleam began to burn in their blue depths as her gaze settled on the three. “I only know I have had enough of this abuse and I will tolerate no more! Now do your worst or be done with it altogether!”

  Elise’s small, firm chin jutted as she clenched her teeth against a shudder. If they were truly desperate men, she had just invited her own demise.

  “Belay yur fears, vrouwelin,” the Hanseatic captain attempted to reassure her. “I svear to yu ve are all svorn to yur velfare, to see yu safely borne on a voyage vhich yu may in due time view to yur benefit. Ve vill give yu our service and protection until ye deliver yu into the hands of the one who arranged yur capture.”

  “Protection!” With scoffing laughter Elise rapped the end of the staff against the floor. “Oh, pray thee, saints above! Should I receive protection such as this much longer, I might yet succumb. Yea, I would rather have a pack of slavering wolves at my heels than the lot of you seeing to my care! Protection? Service? Bah!”

  Her challenging stare dared any of them to repeat the vow, but stubbornly the captain tried again. “Vhatever vas done, vrouwelin, vas not carried out vith malicious intent. I say once again ve are at yur service. Do yu have a need ye can attend?”

  “Aye, that I do, Captain! My most urgent need is to be gone from here and on my way home!”

  “Unfortunately, vrouwelin”— the humor returned to the captain’s deep voice—“that is one service ve cannot perform, at least not yet.”

  “Then the next pressing need I have is to get the lot of you out of my sight!”

  Von Reijn nodded in compliance to her wishes and jerked his head at the other two who gladly made their departure. He made to follow, but paused at the door a moment, lifting a large brass key from his pocket.

  “Until ye are out of sight of land yu must stay here.” He waggled the key before her gaze. “Of course, the door vill remain locked until that time. And unless yu fancy being lost on the North Sea vith me and my crew, I vould urge yu not to disturb anything here. Since mine is the only cabin aboard fit for a lady, I must beg yur indulgences now and then in permitting me to fetch my charts and instruments. Be assured, vrouwelin, I vill respect yur privacy as much as can be managed.”

  “I will believe that only when I’m given a latch to bolt the door against your untimely intrusions, Captain,” Elise returned in sharp distrust.

  “I vill announce my presence vith a loud knock, vrouwelin,” he stated. “That is the best I can allow.”

  “You are so kind, Captain.” Her oversweet, jeering tone belied the compliment.

  Nicholas ignored her sarcasm and touched his fingers to his brow in a casual gesture of farewell “I must bid yu adieu and be about my duties, vrouwelin. Once ye have put England to our backs, yu vill be permitted to come up on deck. Guten Abend vrouwelin.”

  Chapter 5

  THE SHIP PLUNGED into a deep trough and, with its chunky bows, blew twin flumes of spray aloft where they were seized by the near-gale force of the nor’wester and whipped across the decks with vengeful verve. Elise gasped as the stiff, water-laden gusts struck her and penetrated to the very marrow of her bones. Clinging cautiously to the rail, she struggled up the gangway to the quarterdeck where Nicholas Von Reijn stood with his hands clasped behind his back and his feet spread wide to brace against the pitch and heel of his vessel. He favored her with only the briefest glance before he turned back to watch the binnacle over the shoulder of the helmsman. Elise gathered the coarse woolen cloak closer about her and sought out a place near the stern where she would be out of the way and hopefully out of sight and mind of the captain. She had had enough of being a prisoner, and at least on deck she could feel some sense of freedom, though she soon realized the price would be a heavy sacrifice of comfort. For the time being, however, she blinked against the salt spray and averted her face from the wind, refusing to yield to the elements.

  Captain Von Reijn scanned the straining masts and billowing sails high overhead, then stepped away from the helmsman. Carefully inspecting every line and spar of his ship, he strolled the reeling deck as if he were quite at home on the high seas. His sturdy legs stayed well beneath him as he moved with a slightly rolling gait, and by the time he passed near Elise, she knew the rhythm of his bold strides, for his heavily booted footfalls came with uninterrupted regularity until he halted beside the rail.

  Though she huddled in her woolen cloak and seemed unmindful of his presence, Elise was sure his eyes had settled upon her. In truth, she felt divested of the simple wrap and everything beneath it. His unrelenting regard touched off a quickening temper, and amid the gathering storm of emotion she tossed a glance over her shoulder, only to find that he was squinting into the sails. Vexed with him, she jerked back, wondering if she had truly imagined his hawkish stare or if he was just adept at concealing where his eyes had been.

  Elise stiffened as his footsteps drew near, and when he halted beside her, she looked around with a piqued frown and found him giving her a slow, impassive scrutiny.

  “All is vell vith yu, vrouwelin?” he asked, and his voice, just loud enough to be heard above the wind, was deep and smooth.

  Elise met his inquiring regard with eyes that had turned dark, steely gray to match the cold and turbulent sky overhead. “Captain!” She raised her nose only the slightest degree to convey her vexation, then set her jaw with determination as she plunged onward. “If you had one whit of honor or decency in you, you would turn this vessel about and return me to England.” Her smile was tight and bereft of any warmth. “Any part would do. I can find my own way home.”

  “My apologies, vrouwelin. I cannot do that.”

  “Of course not,” she sneered. “You would lose the coin you have no doubt been promised.” She stared out to sea for a moment, braving the icy spray upon her face, then lifted her gaze once more to the pale blue eyes. “You’ve not yet taken me into your confidence, Captain, and I am most curious to know where we are bound. Is it some dark secret to be forever withheld from me, or will I be allowed to know your destination? Were I to guess, I would say we are bound for some Hanseatic port, considering you are part of that league.”

  Nicholas acknowledged her statement with a slight dip of his head. “And yu vould guess rightly, Englisch. Once ye cross the North Sea, ve vill sail down the mouth of the Elbe River to the port of Hamburg vhere yu vill, in time, meet yur benefactor.”

  The cold wind whipped her cloak unrelentingly, but Elise suppressed any shivering reaction as she asked with a hint of sarcasm, “Would he be a German like yourself, Captain?”

  “Perhaps . . . perhaps not.” Nicholas shrugged indolently. “Time vill tell you all, Englisch.”

  “Aye, and time will see the lot of you hanged for the scheming brigands you are,” she retorted.

  “That, too, remains to be seen,” he murmured with an unaffected smile. Sweeping into a shallow bow, he took his leave of her and returned to stand beside the helmsman.

  Elise would have tossed a glare at his broad back, but a chill blast drew a shudder from her, and she huddled deeper in her cloak. Its warmth was evasive, and she had to clench her teeth to keep them from rattling.

  The ship chewed on along its halting course, gain ing the northern reaches of the channel. The wind stiffened and became nearly unbearable. Elise suffered the open air until each icy spray made he
r gasp for breath and every frigid draft of wind sent the cold piercing through her, leaving her shuddering in bleak discomfort. At times stubborn to a fault, she was quickly learning the necessity of yielding to wisdom and common sense. The folly of a foolish course was not beyond her comprehension, and with each passing moment the remembered comfort of the cabin grew more inviting. Logic and reason could no longer be denied when her feet and hands grew numb. Trying to control her haste, she left the deck and stumbled through the passageway to the cabin. The door slammed shut behind her as the ship lurched into yet another swale, and she leaned against the wall to steady herself, savoring the draftless warmth of the quarters as she slowly dragged the sodden cloak away from her. Never in her life had she been so cold, and in her mind it was just another mark against the one who had perpetrated this offense.

  A large, leather-bound chest had been carried in during her absence and now rested near the narrow bunk. What use it would serve aroused her suspicions, for she recalled with a shudder another cask of comparable enormity in which she had been rudely transported. Finding it securely locked, she huddled beneath the heavy quilts on the bunk and awaited that time when she would learn of its function.

  The midday hour approached, and a quick rap came upon the door, but before she could answer, the ship lurched forward and the cabin boy stumbled through, struggling to keep the tray he bore from spilling. He bobbed a quick apology, then, mumbling something in a foreign tongue, placed his burden on the table.

  Elise pointed to the chest, sure that he bad brought it in. “What is this and why is it here?”

  The youth shrugged to denote his lack of understanding and offered a name to aid her. “Kapitan Von Reijn.”

  His reply assured that her questions would have to be answered by the one he had named, a fact which Elise had already surmised. The lad gave her an inquiring look, and in return she gave him a nod of dismissal, allowing him to beat a hasty retreat.

  A savory aroma wafted from the table, drawing her to the tray the cabin boy had brought, but the small, covered dish was ignored as she noticed a pair of pewter bowls and a like number of utensils, indicating she would not dine alone. She could only think of one person who would have the affront to invite himself to share the noon victuals with her, and that, of course, was the good captain himself.

  A sudden anger took hold of her. “Methinks that wily jackanape is sorely addled if he expects to find me a willing companion.”

  A brisk knock intruded and, reluctantly bidding entrance, Elise turned stoically, knowing who it was before the portal swung open. Her reasoning proved correct. Nicholas entered, sweeping the fur cap from his head.

  “Aarrgh! This vind vould have us battling the North Sea before the morrow,” he rumbled, doffing the fur-lined, salt- and spray-bespeckled coat he had worn on deck. Giving it a shake to dislodge the droplets, he hooked it over a peg beside her cloak and approached her, rubbing his hands briskly together to encourage the flow of circulation through his icy fingers. Her stare was as frosty as the North Sea they sailed, and he regarded her with a humorous twinkle in his eyes as she confronted him with arms folded squarely across her chest and a look of stubborn defiance on her face.

  “Do you have a need in this cabin?” Elise questioned him bluntly.

  “It crossed my mind,” Nicholas responded jovially, “that ve could share the victuals prepared by my cook . . . a lover of fine foods like myself. I believe Herr Dietrich has prepared something very special for yu. A stew vith oysters from yur Englisch Thames. I should like to partake . . . if yu have no objection, vrouwelin.”

  “I can hardly insist that you leave,” she retorted. “I can only hope that you do.”

  “After ve eat, eh?” Nicholas chuckled, ignoring her testy reply. He crossed to the table where he ladled the oyster stew into two bowls, placed them at opposite ends, and then tore off portions from a small loaf of bread. He casually gestured to the place across from his own.

  “If yu please, Englisch. I assure yu, I vill not bite.” Elise bristled as she heard the laughter in his voice, and their eyes locked in a challenging battle of wills. “If you’re suggesting I’m afraid of you, Captain”—she managed a brief, tight smile—“let me assure you that I consider you a blustering buffoon, to be mainly ignored. And as you may have guessed I have no wish to dine with my captors.”

  “If yur choice is to starve, then so be it.” He folded down the tops of his thigh-high boots and lowered himself in a chair. Contemplating her stoic demeanor, he braced an elbow on the table and thoughtfully crossed his lips with a finger. “If yu vould decide othervise, vrouwelin, I’d rather savor yur company and have yu join me . . . at yur leisure, of course.”

  It was impossible to ignore the delicious aroma drifting from the table, but through dint of will Elise held to her place while the Hansa captain satisfied his hunger. A short time later she felt some chagrin as she watched the cabin boy clean away the dishes, leaving no crumb for her to savor.

  “Vhen the evening vatch is out, ve vill shorten sail for the night and stand off a bit from the vind,” Nicholas informed her, letting his gaze rest upon her again. “Dietrich enjoys preparing a small feast for the evening meal. I shall expect yu to join me then.”

  Elise’s chin came up in a gesture of unswerving tenacity. If he meant her to be obedient to his requests, then he was again mistaken. “I pray you command no special favor for me, Captain,” she replied crisply. “I am quite hearty and fully understand that I am a prisoner here.”

  “Hearken, vrouwelin.” Nicholas held up a hand to stem her words. “It is my own pleasure I seek. The enjoyment of good food is my second passion, and I only ask yu to share it vhile ve endure . . . ach! How do yu Englisch say . . . a common misfortune? Ja? This journey does not require me to be uncomfortable, and toward that end”—he rose, wagging a finger against her reply—“neither should yu.”

  “My very presence aboard this ship fills me with indignation,” she retorted. “I know not what awaits me, and I find no encouragement from your simple prattle. I’ve been snatched from my home and thrust aboard this ship with no guarantee I will see the end of the voyage. A common misfortune, you say? Pray tell me, sir, lest I should be blind, where do you suffer ill fortune? It seems a most singular experience to me.”

  She stood before him with arms akimbo, a vision of fire and beauty. In spite of her mean garb she was a sight to warm any man’s blood, and his eyes passed over her, taking in every detail where the woolen gown molded itself to the swells and hollows of her womanly curves. It was a scrutiny Elise might have expected from any man, but in this case she could hardly dismiss it, considering she was his prisoner and she had no place to flee for safety should he seek a closer inspection. His brow furrowed into sharp creases as he turned his attention to the gray haze of sea and clouds beyond the gallery windows, as if he struggled with some inner turmoil, then he stepped past her. Going to the chest, he dug two fingers into the pocket of his leather doublet and removed a large key which he plied promptly to the lock. Lifting the lid, he dropped to a knee before the piece, then paused and, with eyes narrowed in careful contemplation, considered her again from head to toe.

  Ja! Ja! Yu be of the right size, I think. Ve did good.” Subduing a mild curiosity, Elise passively observed him as he took two large bundles wrapped in cloth from the chest. He placed them on the floor beside him, removed another of a slightly smaller size, then a fourth one which was even smaller. Dropping the lid, he rose and went to the bunk where he spread the bundles for her benefit.

  “Yu vould no doubt be more comfortable vearing these clothes this evening, Englisch, and it is my vish yu do so.” Abruptly he stepped away. “Ach! I cannot stay a moment longer. My duties call, but I vill return vhen darkness comes.”

  He tugged on the hat, outfitted himself for another tour on the deck and left, slamming the door behind him. Elise was intrigued, and she teased herself for only a moment before she opened the two larger packages. In both she
found a treasure of carefully folded, royal blue velvet garments, in the first a cloak of rich beauty fully lined with silver fur, and in the second a gown trimmed at the neck with a white ruff edged with silver lace and long sleeves puffed at he shoulders and intricately embroidered with silver thread. Another bundle contained undergarments, a hooped farthingale, chemise, and delicately worked petticoats, while the fourth held a pair of silken slippers of a shade to match the gown. To be sure, the garments were far richer than anything a prisoner could expect.

  Elise smoothed the soft fur and stroked the blue velvet with her hand, caressing it almost in a daze as a sudden longing came over her. Though only a scant few days ago, it seemed like ages since she had soaked in a perfumed bath and enjoyed the luxury of fine clothes such as these.

  A harsh frown suddenly creased her brow as she remembered the captain’s scrutiny, and she began to fold and wrap the garments again. She did not know his purpose, but there had to be some reason for these gifts, a reason she would not likely care for. He could quite easily take her by force; there was no question of his greater strength, but if he carried some hope of persuading her to be a willing and ardent companion by giving gifts of delectable foods and rich clothing, then in that too he was mistaken. Her favors were not to be purchased for any price.

  The hour of darkness drew nigh, and the masts and yards above the cabin creaked heavily, as with a changing stress. Gradually the incessant rolling of the ship eased, and Elise knew that Nicholas Von Reijn, true to his word, had altered the course to run the ship with the wind more at its heels. It would not be long now before he would make an appearance.

  The cabin boy came in to prepare the table for the evening meal, adorning it with fine linen, enamel-handled knives, silver dishes, and stemmed goblets of the same. When the service was prepared, he busied himself laying out a feast of poached pigeons with gooseberries, marinated salmon, and a small assortment of side dishes. When the lad fled the cabin, leaving her to await the coming of his master, Elise grew tense with the prospect of what the evening might bring. Of course, with his love of food the good captain would not dawdle overlong with the meal close at hand. He would be coming soon, and with each moment she grew increasingly aware of her predicament. If she refused to yield to him, he could easily resort to force, and there was not a single seaman aboard the vessel who would protect her from him. Even though Fitch and Spence made an appearance now and then, their attitude was one of pure distress at the motion of the ship. Nor could she have considered them helpmates had they been of stronger fortitude. As far as she could determine, they obeyed Von Reijn’s commands explicitly and would not dare interfere if he ordered them out of his sight.