The Jezebel

by Saskia Walker

  The image of her lowering her hood, with that beseeching look in her eyes, flashed through his mind. Her lips had trembled when she thought he wasn’t going to take the offer of her virginity. It had intrigued him, and now he knew why. There was a wisdom about her. She was young, but with eyes that knew too much, had seen too much. And yet there was an acceptance about her, too, for her pride was tinged with desperation. All of those things and her strange beauty had left him unable to turn away. If he had, he knew he would never have stopped wondering about her.

  As dawn split the horizon, he peered toward land. They had kept the coastline in their scopes. He could take her to shore at any time, but he waited as long as he could, unwilling to say goodbye. They’d passed Saint Andrews, and now he was looking toward Fife. He’d been born in the Lowlands of Scotland, across the Tay from Saint Andrews, in a back room of a tenement in Dundee. Lurid tales of witches and their burnings had been part of his childhood. He’d never pictured one looking anything like the woman he had been consorting with these past few days, though. Despite his dark mood, Roderick gave a wry smile at that thought.

  During his years at sea, visiting many strange lands, he’d heard stories of people with magical powers, and oftentimes those people were revered and respected, not put to death as they were in his homeland. Maisie’s mother had been one of those victims. That was a harsh realization for him. No matter how humble his beginnings—and they had been humble, hampered by poverty and misfortune—he hadn’t had such a dark history as Maisie. No wonder she’d looked so afraid when she was brought above deck and the men had threatened to end her days because of her forbidden craft. Roderick couldn’t blame them, for he couldn’t claim to understand her, either.

  Witchcraft. He never would have guessed it. There was something strange about her, but not that. He’d never been a believer, but there was no denying what he’d witnessed, and in matters of their joining, yes, there had been much that was not easily explained. He’d been so taken with her, it had been easy to ignore. At first.

  Once again he looked at the distant shoreline and at the sky. They were almost within sight of the Tay estuary. It was time to set her feet on dry land. She could go where she was destined.

  Roderick decided it was the right thing, no matter how wrong it felt. While the majority of the men still rested, he would instruct Clyde to lower a rowboat. He could trust the sailor to do it without question, he knew, because Clyde had been wary of her, but had not called for her to walk the plank. The old man had been wise about her from the outset, and had made good points about her. Clyde knew she meant them no harm. He watched Roderick even now, a glint in his eye as if he was running a wager with himself on how this matter would play out.

  If any of the men argued with Roderick, he had a perfectly good reason for escorting her away from the ship. Depositing her on dry land would rid them of the burden of carrying a witch, well before they reached their destination.

  He called to Clyde, and was about to instruct him to lower the rowboat and prepare Maisie to leave the ship when a whistle sounded above their heads.

  The watchman pointed at the horizon. “Ship ahoy, Captain.”

  Roderick reached for Clyde’s eyeglass and focused it in that direction.

  A large vessel was headed their way. At the top of the main mast a familiar flag was flapping. “It’s a navy ship. If they’re patrolling the waters, they wouldn’t be headed straight toward the coastline.”

  He approached the starboard railing, looking back over their wake at the tossing waves. “They have come in from a distance. If we were closer to Saint Andrews, I’d think them headed there, but we’re almost at the Tay now.”

  Brady ran up the steps from the main deck. “The ship appears to be making ready to engage. They are coming for us, Captain,” he added in an alarmed tone.

  For me, no doubt. Roderick frowned. But would they go to such trouble for the taxes owed on a small merchant ship? Perhaps they would pass by.

  Brady called out for all hands on deck. The order was passed quickly, men relaying it along the chain of command.

  Roderick strode to a wooden trunk that was built in close to the wheel. Unlocking it, he pulled out his cutlass and sword belt and wrapped it around his hips. When he returned to the wheel, men were pouring out on deck, hiving off in all directions. Several clambered onto the rigging, shifting into positions on the spar above, ready for his instructions.

  “Full sail, veer hard to port. They are coming up fast and if we cling to the coastline they might pass us by.” The instruction was passed and the crew set about adjusting the angles of the spars, rolling up sails to change direction at speed through the turn.

  Roderick clenched his jaw while he watched through the spyglass. The navy ship was fast. It had the advantage, and wouldn’t take long to come up on their stern.

  It was a command ship, and in the distance he saw another ship behind it. Scanning the horizon, he caught sight of a third vessel, approaching from the north. Roderick lowered his eyeglass and looked Brady’s way. “There are three vessels. They have us surrounded. Even if we gain speed, that third ship will block our passage north.”

  “A carefully planned entrapment,” Brady commented.

  “Indeed.” Roderick frowned. “And yet when we docked at Lowestoft we were not approached by navy officers.”

  “It is a puzzle.”

  Roderick and Brady studied each other a moment.

  “Guns at the ready, Captain?” Clyde asked.

  Roderick pressed his lips together. It would be a token gesture for his men, nothing more. There was little they could hope to do against three naval ships that had dominance in these waters. “Aye, but not visible.”

  Safeguarding the ship and the crew was his priority. The navy vessel was coming up on them, but before he had a chance to issue any more instructions, a loud boom sounded.

  It was a warning shot, for it was not followed by another.

  “They wish to board,” Brady said.

  The command ship approached with its cannon at the ready. Uniformed naval soldiers lined up on the nearside, guns trained on the Libertas. A brazier flamed on the deck, men standing by with bows and arrows held aloft.

  “They are ready to take out our sails, Captain,” Clyde called out.

  “Drop anchor,” Roderick instructed. When no one moved, Roderick repeated the instruction, louder.

  He looked at Brady, who rolled his eyes. “No other option,” the first mate agreed.

  “Not a good time to have a store crammed with illicit French wine,” Roderick commented.

  “Nor an angry witch tied up in the hold.”

  Up until that point Roderick had not made a connection between their passenger and the trio of ships that had ambushed them. Neither had Brady.

  They frowned at one another.

  “You don’t think it’s her they are coming for?” Brady asked.

  Roderick swayed, his concerns growing rapidly. Witch hunters?

  “She was eager to leave London. Perhaps this is why.”

  Roderick nodded, but he looked away, focusing on the command ship, and prayed that was not the case. If it was, he wouldn’t let them take her. They would find her, though, even if they only came to search the ship for contraband goods.

  Brady, however, brightened at the prospect. “If they truly are after the Jezebel, we will be rid of her sooner than expected.”

  Roderick didn’t acknowledge his comment.

  Clyde caught his eye and the old man shook his head.

  The command ship set down anchor nearby and two rowboats were lowered. Six men bearing arms accompanied a commanding officer in the first. Two more men followed in the second.

  Roderick watched as the rowboats closed the distance. As he did, he tried to plan for every possible outcome, but until he knew what had led them here, he could not even begin to decide how to act.

  The naval officer stood up. “Captain Cameron of the Libertas,” the offic
er bellowed.

  “We’re behind you, Captain,” one of his men called out to him. “Just say the word if you want us to take action.”

  Roderick approached the railing with a deep sense of misgiving. Something was badly amiss. The number of men and vessels was unprecedented for a simple case of excise evasion. As he pondered it, his thoughts went to Maisie. Had they come to try her? Was she known in London, and was that why she had to leave so hastily?

  “I am Captain Cameron,” he shouted down.

  The officer stared up at him, sour-faced and disapproving. “We believe you have a passenger aboard, a young lady by the name of Margaret.”

  Roderick’s heart sank. He would rather they’d come for him.

  “They have come for the witch,” one of the men close by said to another. Whispered conversations began and Roderick’s tension grew as he realized his men were pleased. He was not. “We do not carry passengers,” he announced.

  “You were observed taking a young woman aboard this ship in Billingsgate,” announced the officer. “Her guardian seeks her safe return, and if you deliver her to us unharmed, we will be lenient when addressing the extensive list of excise charges against your name.”

  Roderick was relieved that no mention of arresting her on a charge of witchcraft had been made. However, if this guardian of hers was well-meaning, why had she run away? Was it the same man who wanted to keep her? He tried to recall if she had referred to him as her guardian. If only she had confided more in him, he would be able to judge and know how best to respond.

  Meanwhile, at his back, the men were already taking action. “Fetch her up. Let them take her and we’ll be rid of her and her twisted ways.”

  “Stand your ground,” he instructed, shooting the order back over his shoulder.

  “If you do not hand the young lady over,” the naval officer continued, “a charge of kidnap will also be listed against your name, and no mercy will be shown to you or your men as we come aboard.”

  “Look at the trouble she has brought upon us,” a shipman spat.

  “She is a crime against God, that woman,” another one agreed. “Let them deal with her.”

  Roderick’s heart thundered against the wall of his chest. He was trapped. There was no way they could escape the navy. Neither could he decide whether Maisie would be safer with them than she would be with his own men, who had turned against her.

  If only he’d managed to get her to dry land before this occurred.

  He addressed the officer below. “The woman you seek is safe and well.”

  “So, you do have the young lady. If you do not take passengers, we must assume that you have indeed kidnapped her.” His sour expression altered into a sly grin.

  Roderick’s mind raced. From what little Maisie had revealed, he had been able to glean that the man who wanted to keep her had wealth and influence. Influence enough to set the Royal Navy on them? If that was the case, then they intended to take her back to London. Torn, he considered the dilemma. She would be safer with the navy—who apparently were unaware of her forbidden craft—than with his own crew. But could she escape the master from whom she had run before if the navy took her back to him? Roderick could only hope.

  He had to be sure they were not acting on behalf of witch hunters. “I have a duty to ensure the young lady is safely delivered onto land. Are you charged with the same duty?”

  The naval officer turned to pass comment to a man behind him, before he answered. “Given that we are rescuing the lady from you, that is somewhat of a strange question, Captain Cameron.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice.

  Behind him, Roderick heard his crew whispering, and there was laughter, too. At least the mood had lightened amongst them, he thought wryly.

  Brady came closer to his side. “Don’t be a fool, Roderick. Let her go. She will be their problem and they’ve assured you our men won’t be harmed.”

  “And you believe that?” Roderick lifted his eyebrows.

  Brady scowled at him. “I have a family to feed. I have to believe it.”

  As I have to believe Maisie will be safe once she is dispatched to the navy.

  “Bring her up from the hold,” Roderick commanded.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Maisie rose to her feet, her hands clutching at her tethers. She hadn’t been able to rest easy, even with the stuffed sack Roderick had left her to sit upon, but the distress she felt up until that moment was nothing compared to the sense of doom that encroached on her now.

  It closed in all around her, ominous and far-reaching, and building all the while.

  The ship lurched, as if changing direction.

  Something bad was going to happen. Panic hit her. She sought an enchantment to free her from her bonds. Then the ship seemed to still.

  Sails had been drawn in and she heard them drop anchor. Was it because Roderick was taking her to shore? If that was the case, the men would be uneasy, which might explain the sense of impending doom she felt. It would be dangerous if the men found her freed by magic, so she stayed as she was.

  Then she heard a loud boom, followed by silence. Distant voices reached her through the bowels of the ship. Someone shouted, but she could not understand what was being said. Time passed. Then the sound of footsteps close by took her attention to the door. Moving her head in that direction, she listened closely, trying to work out if it was Roderick. If it was, she would truly have to say goodbye to him. It would be hard, for she felt great affection for him, but she knew he could do no more than take her to land and set her free.

  Why didn’t that make her happy, as it should?

  A key rattled in the lock and the door creaked open.

  Several men entered the room. She sensed three, maybe four.

  “See?” one of them said. “Even the captain was afraid to look at those eyes of hers.”

  “I am surprised, for I thought him smitten with her.”

  The second man sounded familiar. Brady, perhaps? They circled her, three of them.

  None of them was Roderick.

  When they began to untie the rope that bound her hands, Maisie reacted. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Fear not, Jezebel, it is not the plank that awaits you.”

  That was definitely the old man, Clyde, for not only did she recognize his voice, she knew he’d been the one to saddle her with that name. She turned her face in the direction of his voice.

  “What’s happening?”

  “You’ve been rescued by the British navy, who seem to be under the assumption that you were kidnapped by our captain.”

  “A fine story indeed,” one of the other men said. “Any fool could see she came aboard of her own volition. Duped our captain with one of her spells, no doubt.”

  “Didn’t need no spell to dupe him, if you ask me,” Clyde responded. “I wager that one look at her was all he needed, and he was sold on the idea of bedding her.”

  “I wager, I wager,” the other man parroted. “Do you do anything but wager with yourself?”

  “It keeps me sharp in the head.”

  Maisie barely registered their words, stricken as she was by fresh concerns. Whatever did they mean, the navy was here for her? “I do not understand. Who has come?”

  As soon as the words were out, dread swamped her. Who else would come but Cyrus?

  No, not that.

  Hands reached behind her head.

  “What are you doing? Are you a fool?”

  “She cannot climb the ladder blinded. Look away if you are scared. I am not afeared. I’ve been given no reason to be.” Swiftly, the blindfold was removed.

  Maisie blinked and squinted. It was Clyde who stood before her. A quick glance showed her the two men with him had averted their eyes. She had the wild urge to tell them it wouldn’t help, if she chose to make magic, but she resisted.

  “Be quick about it, Clyde.” It was Brady and he was annoyed.

  “The British navy have come for you.” Clyde peered into her ey
es, observing her closely. “Your guardian?”

  “My tormentor.” It was a whispered comment that she couldn’t withhold, but Clyde heard her.

  He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently.

  Compassion, from this man who had recognized something different in her that first morning they set sail? It touched her deeply. Her lower lip trembled as tears gathered in her eyes. They were so close to landing in Scotland. She’d begun to believe Roderick would be able to see her onto land, after all. Now this. Cyrus had taken action. He’d sent people to hunt her down.

  “They wanted to charge our captain with kidnap,” Clyde said, and she felt the hand on her shoulder tighten.

  This was important. Maisie listened even more closely.

  “Said they wouldn’t press charges or harm any of the ship’s crew, though, if you are safely delivered to them.”

  A deal had been done, and Maisie felt as if it had been made directly with her. If she went willingly, Roderick would be safe. Given such a good cause, she would do so.

  Brady had set about tugging down the rope from the beam.

  Pain shot through her shoulders as her arms were lowered, pulling her back from her thoughts. She was prodded, encouraged to move. Clearly, the men did not want to touch her.

  Clyde, however, guided her with one hand still on her shoulder.

  “I knew there was something not right about you,” Brady commented from behind them. “But as long as you’re gone from this ship with your witchcraft and your wicked ways, I’ll be happy.”

  “Good luck to them, I say,” the third man said. “Once they realize, they will hand her over to a magistrate.”

  They were glad to be rid of her. Did Roderick know what this meant? she wondered. How could he? He wouldn’t guess that Cyrus was capable of swaying people in power to pursue her.