“Then how do you know them, petite?”
“I’ve had … an exceptional education.”
Without asking for permission, I took the map from his hands and examined it, a small, secretive smile on my face.
I could see he was still watching me. “Where are you from?” he asked curiously.
“The Americas. You know that.”
“I’ve been to the Americas. They’re not exactly the forefront of civilization.”
I shrugged.
“And your accent. It is unusual.” He looked at me a few moments longer. “Your writings, are you recording our memoirs?”
I looked thoughtful. “So far it’s merely notes.”
“A Lady’s Guide to Modest Living?” He said it very soberly.
I laughed. “The captain mocked me, too. But I will be proved right. Whether or not my skeptics are around to witness it or not is the question.”
“Proved right? About what?”
“Everything,” I said with careless confidence. “Everything I say shall be proved right.”
I looked down at the map, the soft, crumpled animal skin, and thoughtfully fingered the creases. It had obvious grime and smudges from being handled by dirty hands. “I had thought the captain would be my chosen instrument, but it seems that won’t be so.”
There was silence, and the duke asked me abruptly, “Would you like something to drink?” I shook my head, still examining the map.
He turned and poured a drink for himself, then sat in his chair and regarded the liquid in the glass thoughtfully. “Rachel,” he said casually. “May I call you Rachel?”
“Of course. And how might I address you? What is culturally appropriate?”
“You must call me Charles.”
“Charles,” I repeated happily. “Thank you. But that’s not what I meant. I meant, how is a Duke addressed? Is it Milord, or Highness, or something like that?”
He looked at me quizzically. “You really don’t know?”
“No. I told you I hail from far off places.”
He regarded me a moment longer, then said, “Your Grace is the accepted mode of address.”
“I will remember to make note of it … Your Grace. I hope you will help further my education regarding all social negotiations. The captain, as I’m sure you’re aware, has limited ability in this regard. I tried to convince him to accompany me on this venture, but he refused me outright. Walked away without looking back.”
He was silent, watching me. “What exactly is the manner of your relationship with Captain Tucker?”
I looked at him curiously. “Relationship? We are colleagues. Collaborators. Isn’t it obvious?”
“Tucker, he is not given to easy relationships with women.”
I chuckled. “Yes. He told me. We are like fragile stinging bees, too quick to swat away.”
“What does he think about you, petite?” he asked.
“He told me I don’t frighten him like other women do. He called me masculine once. But I think … I think he’s rectified that opinion.”
There was silence, and I turned to find the duke watching me, a speculative look in his eyes.
After a moment, he called for Marshall Looper, and the man appeared almost instantly. The duke called him “captain,” and it sounded rather funny to me, and I laughed.
Looper shot me an angry look, his brows descended, as though he knew what I was laughing about. I schooled my features as I heard the duke instruct Marshall to escort me to my cabin. I followed him mutely as he showed me the way. Small and disorderly, it was an unpleasant room, but I was grateful that I could finally lay down my aching head.
Before I entered the cabin, I turned to find Looper’s eyes on me. Not on my face, but scanning the length of my dress. He was an older man, most likely in his early sixties, and his skin was weathered and wrinkled, his eyes dull and yellowed. And if I stepped within a foot of him, I could smell a sour odor. It was rather unpleasant to be with him … and not just because of his appearance. Because of whom he was and what he had done. His mutiny against Captain Tucker’s father, his willingness to torture and kill anyone who stood in his way. I hurried into my room and closed the door, though there was no lock. I tried to scoot furniture in front of it, but it was all nailed to the floor.
*** *** ***
We set sail almost immediately. There was some complaint that not all the men had returned to the ship from shore, but the duke ignored it. He said that we could not wait for them. I knew the treasure was going to be vast. King Tutankhamun’s tomb had over three thousand significant items of furniture, jewelry, statues, sculptures, containers and funeral equipment. And King Tut only ruled nine years. King Maharahi, on the other hand, was the king of kings. I couldn’t fathom his complete unmolested treasure containing less than ten thousand items of significance. I mentioned this to Charles and I saw the spark of excitement in his eyes grow.
“Do you know what the treasure will contain, chérie?”
“Oh, it’s certain to contain many statues, a death mask, gold shrines and sculptures of various gods. A Canopic Shrine is sure to be there, for it contains the King’s embalmed internal organs, and a cartouche box will contain the King’s jewelry. There will be miniature Canopic coffins, painted caskets, as well as King Maharahi’s golden casket, of course, and his sarcophagus. There will be numerous elaborately decorated boxes and chests. Cabinets, chairs, and the King’s golden throne. There will also be the funerary bed along with who knows what else.”
The duke looked at me in amazement. “How do you know all this?”
I smiled smugly. “As I told you before, I have had an exceptional education.”
The days slowly passed and eventually turned into weeks as we sailed through the endless blue water towards an ever elusive horizon. They were not unlike those days on the captain’s ship. The men heave-hoed on those long, complicated ropes day after day while I spent my days trailing after the duke. I did not relish being alone.
Emerging from below deck, I looked around and spotted the duke and immediately made my way to him, carefully skirting around two pirates mending a sail. They watched my careful maneuvering and sneered at me.
Charles was in the middle of a conversation with Marshall Looper and didn’t see me approach. When he turned and saw me, his brows came down.
“I thought you were going exploring,” he said.
“I was, but ….”
“Don’t tell me you’re still afraid.”
“Well ….”
“I told you – these men will not hurt you.”
I nodded and said nothing more. I looked out over the ocean, my eyes scanning the horizon, but still nothing was there. My gaze fell, and I ran my finger over the cracked, wooden railing.
“No use looking for land yet.”
I turned, and I involuntarily flinched.
It was not the duke, but Marshall Looper next to me, his forearm resting calmly against the railing, watching me.
“Where’s the duke?” I demanded.
“At the helm,” he replied negligently.
I turned to hurry away, distaste and fear plainly written on my features, I’m sure. But my wrist was seized in a vice-like grip and I was swung around to face him. My heart skipped a beat.
I stepped back instinctively, but he would not release my wrist. “Let me go,” I demanded.
He only laughed. “Ye sure be a spitfire, ain’t ye? Why hate me so?”
I shook my arm free and stepped back. “I know what you did,” I said between my teeth.
This intrigued him. “And what be that?”
“You torture and kill, betray those who trust you.”
He was unmoved. “A pirate I be.” He shrugged.
“I know that you destroyed a family and ruined a boy’s life. I know how you got that map!”
The amusement increased. “Tucker tellin’ ye bedtime stories? Is that what ye be talkin’ ‘bout while sleepin’ in his cabin?”
&nbs
p; “What?”
He pulled me close again and kissed me hard on the mouth, the feel of his greasy face and the stench of his breath nearly making me faint. I pushed him away, wiping my mouth with the back of my trembling hand. “Don’t ever touch me again!”
“Ye be givin’ yerself freely enough to Capt’n Tucker, lass. Soon enough we’ll all get a turn with the whore.”
I stepped forward and slapped his face. “You cretin! You make me sick. The captain is worth a million of you. My only solace is you have no idea what the future holds for you,” I seethed.
The humor disappeared, and he stared at me with raging, yellow eyes. He seized my shoulders and yanked me close. I thought he was going to kiss me again, but suddenly he stopped and looked behind him. He turned back to me carefully and rasped between clenched teeth, “I’d be watchin’ me tongue if I was ye, wench. Ye won’t always be under the duke’s protection … and then I’ll show ye how cruel I can be.”
I struggled frantically to free myself. “Let me go!” I screamed.
Suddenly I was released, and Looper was sprawled on the deck at my feet. I looked up to find the duke standing over him, his sword drawn and poised at Looper’s heart, an ugly look on his face that marred his beautiful features. I hardly recognized him.
The pirate put a hand to his own sword, and where I thought the duke would stop him, he commanded, “Draw it!”
Looper happily obeyed, his sword shorter and thicker, looking stronger and more menacing than the duke’s long, thin blade.
They backed away from one another, circling. And there he was, the lean dancer, strong muscles flexing and graceful and ready.
“Back away, Rachel,” the duke told me, and I obeyed him.
“Arrrg, yer thinkin’ yer so smart then, Duke?” he sneered. “Ye be havin’ things all figured out, ‘ave ye?” Looper lunged, a murderous, deadly look in his gaze.
But suddenly his sword was clattering on the floor, and the razor sharp tip of Charles’s thin, dainty blade was pressed to his throat. I had never seen anyone move so quickly in my life. In the blink of an eye it was over, and the duke had not even broken a sweat.
Charles wordlessly grabbed Looper by his collar and hauled him off below deck. He kicked him and Looper tumbled below.
The duke returned, his face full of concern. “Did he hurt you, petite?” he asked, sheathing his blade before taking me in his arms.
I shook my head, still trembling. I remained in his embrace for some moments while the frantic beating of my heart slowed. Then I stepped back and looked up at him. “Charles, he said ….”
“He is a scoundrel. I could kill him,” he seethed.
“He said I wouldn’t always be under your protection. What did he mean by that?”
“He is a liar and a thief, chérie. He only wanted to frighten you.”
He looked down on me, his face full of tenderness. Impulsively he bent down and lightly kissed my lips. Drawing away, he smiled, then bent and kissed my lips again, lingeringly. His breath was warm, his lips firm but soft.
When he drew back, I bent to retrieve my notes, which had fallen on the deck. And then without another word, I fled to my cabin.
Chapter Twelve
Notes: Nothing of note or significance. Status of Captain’s absence remains unchanged.
I was in my cabin about an hour when there was a knock at my door. It was the duke.
He smiled down at me, and perhaps seeing the strain on my face, tried to comfort me. “Do not be afraid. I told you, didn’t I, petite, that I could be dangerous, too?”
He offered me his arm, and I took it. I looked up at him as we approached the dining compartment and stopped before the closed door. “It is almost incongruous that something so beautiful could be so dangerous.”
“Petite! What a charming compliment. Do you really feel so?” I could tell he was pleased.
“Of course. I only say things I mean,” I answered, entering the compartment and looking around. “Why is it so dark in here?”
“Tonight we celebrate,” he told me, smoothly pulling out my chair and taking the seat next to mine.
“What are we celebrating?” I asked happily, dishing up a slice of beef and some vegetables.
“We are due to reach our destination tomorrow,” he answered. He poured wine into my glass and then into his. “If your coordinates are correct.”
“They are,” I said and took a bite of food. “This is delicious. And the table is decorated beautifully.”
The duke didn’t eat. He simply watched me. “You, petite, you ….” He waved vaguely with his hand. “You escape me.”
I looked at him in surprise, meeting his eyes over my glass. “I escape you? How so?”
He leaned forward, bringing him very near. “I know of the world,” the duke returned. “I am educated and not unintelligent. And yet you, if this turns out to be true, know things that cannot be known. These islands that have not yet been discovered, these symbols that no one can interpret but you. Where did you learn of them? I have never seen them before.”
I met his eyes. “You act like it has to be a great mystery. It’s some islands you’ve never heard of before. So what? Thousands of islands litter the oceans. A language I’m familiar with. I am an expert in languages. You cannot — forgive me — know everything, Your Grace.”
“It is not all. It is in the way you look so smug and self-satisfied. As though you know something tremendous, and it delights you.”
I tried to look at him soberly but I couldn’t help the smile that slowly broke out, justifying his words. I shook my head. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
“You wouldn’t be able to cope, I’m afraid.” I laughed.
“I may surprise you.”
“I’m doing you a favor keeping you in ignorance, believe me. The captain —”
“Tucker is a fool!” he exclaimed.
I was momentarily stunned. “I thought you liked the captain, Your Grace.”
“Yes, as one likes a harmless, slightly pitiful mongrel.”
My eyes glared. “How dare you. The captain is not a mongrel, Charles. He is strong and authoritative and principled. If it wasn’t for him, God knows what would have come of me. I owe him my life, and no one will say such disrespectful and untrue things about him in my presence.”
He caught my hand as I began to rise, his face all at once contrite. “Forgive me, petite. I spoke impulsively.”
We went back to our food and there was silence. I tried not to look him in the eye, my gaze on the food, the walls, anywhere but on his seeking expression. I could feel his eyes on me, urging me to look at him. In the silence, the charge in the air became almost palpable. I could feel an energy building in him, an excitement laced with agitation, perhaps even anger.
But when I still refused to look at him, at last there was an outburst, a curse in French. Then he stood and pulled me close, his eyes blazing. “There! You cannot avoid it forever, petite. Look at me. You must see it. I won’t let you ignore it any longer. I kissed you on the deck today, and I knew I’d met my fate. No. I knew it long before. When I first saw you in that ridiculous shop listening to your endearing, frank, overly confident yet ridiculous prattle. Can’t you see that I love you? You must! You can’t tell me you’ve been ignorant of my feelings. Tell me you understand. Mon Dieu, tell me you will have mercy on my poor heart.”
His eyes scanned my face intensely, a fire and energy in him that made his lean muscles tense and straining as they held me and I knew I could not escape him if I tried. His power was terrific, his arms like steel bands restraining me. At last his searching gaze came to rest on my lips. I felt myself tremble under his strength, draining me of the urge to assert myself or even to have a will of my own. My heart began to race and I knew fear in that submission, and that excited me, too. I was powerless to move or look away, and his grip loosened as he felt my surrender. Soon he held me captive with only his fingers. His lips s
lowly curled.
He leaned forward, his other hand rising to rest on the back of my neck, and he began to pull me close, his face drawing near. So close.
Suddenly I found myself stiffening. I put my hands against his chest and pushed against him. I turned my head as his lips descended and they touched only my cheek.
Surprise showed on his face. “Chérie! You don’t love me?”
I laughed and broke away from him and sat back in my chair. “Your Grace, you lovely, lovely Duke of Norcross. Love? You can’t be serious!”
The duke turned white and became very, very still. He sucked in his breath. “What did you say?” he said quietly.
“Love is so fanciful, so illogical. It’s all emotion. No reason at all. I have great plans for my future. I’ve accomplished things others only dream of. I have a duty to the world, to knowledge itself, to pursue this to its bitter end. It’s what I’m designed for. Love, like fairy tales, are for children and don’t come into account. That tripe would interfere with my ambition. They would only delay me from my life’s goal. Besides, we hardly know each other. I thought you had more sense than that. The captain never ….”
I looked up at him and fell silent. He still stood there unmoving, so still, so dangerously quiet, I could feel a change in the atmosphere, as though a cold blanket had been placed over the room.
“Yes? The captain?” he queried when I didn’t continue.
I moistened my dry lips and laughed lightly. “Oh, you know, he never confronted me with these issues.” When the duke didn’t respond, I continued nervously, “I’ve never really experienced anything like this before, and I’m not saying things right. I didn’t really mean that the way it sounded. I was just startled, that’s all. I really am very honored that you ….”
“Forgive me,” he spoke stiffly.
“Forgive me,” I returned.
We did speak after that, discussing the voyage and the anticipated challenges, but the duke never fully recovered his trademark composure, and the remainder of the night was stilted and quiet. He excused himself earlier than normal, and I was left alone, my hands in tight fists in my lap.
The Dreamer (The Fall Series) Page 11
