Captain's Bride (42 page)

“There she is, lad. The
Southern Star
.” They
stood at the rail, Mac beside Nicholas. The Charleston dock swarmed
with activity even though dusk had set in. Wagons and drays rumbled
past, and raucous laughter bubbled from nearby taverns.

“Back the sails smartly!” Nicholas ordered as the
Black Witch
pulled alongside the dock. The ship was made
fast in minutes, and Nicholas, Mac, Jago, and Josh headed down the
gangway. Mac stopped to speak with a passing sailor, then caught up
with the others just as they entered the livery.

“That was Timothy Jones from the
Star
,” Mac
told them. “He says she put in early this afternoon. The slavers
were leading a string o’ Negroes, so there’ll be a bit o’ time
afore they reach the plantation.”

“Was Glory with them?”

“She sure was, lad. Timothy says he couldna miss a
face like hers. Says she was fine, last he saw her.” Mac slid his
eyes away. Nicholas didn’t miss the look.

“Tell me the rest.”

Mac took a breath. “Seems one o’ the slavers took a
shine to her. Tried to force himself on her. Glory stuck him wi’
his own knife.”

Nicholas set his jaw. “What else?”

“Timothy said Bigger—that’s the mon’s name—was
braggin’ to the crew he was gonna bed her, one way or another. Says
she owes him. For what she done to his shoulder.”

“Damn!” Nicholas stormed, gray eyes dark. “Let’s get
going. We haven’t a moment to lose.” He swung into his saddle and
the others followed suit. Threading their way through the noisy
throng of people along the wharf, they picked up the pace as they
headed out of town.

By late evening the slavers had reached the far
boundaries of the Summerfield plantation. Glory recognized the lane
beside the rice field she’d ridden with Nicholas. How long ago that
had been. The slaves had begun to sing as they trudged along the
road, their deep voices sweet and low on the still evening air.
Nathan’s voice mingled with the others, but Glory could easily
discern his flawless speech pattern, so different from the lowland
drawl of the rest.

She was surprised when they passed the road to the
main house and headed instead up a back lane that led to the
residence of the overseer, Jonas Fry.

“Why aren’t we going to the manor?” she asked Spencer
James.

“Fry’s the man we come to see.”

Glory felt a shiver of apprehension, but brushed it
away. They were on Summerfield land now. Everything was going to be
fine. Bone-tired, she kicked her feet free of the stirrups to
stretch her sore legs, raw and strained from so many hours in the
unfamiliar saddle.

“You need those pretty long legs o’ yours rubbed,”
Matt Bigger told her. “I’d be happy to stop here an’ oblige.” He
grinned wickedly.

“I’m fine, thank you. I just want to get home.”

“Oh, you’re gonna git home,” he said, just loud
enough for her to hear. “But not before you and I finish what we
started on the ship.”

“We started nothing on the ship.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I can still remember the
taste of those perty pink lips of yours. I never wanted a woman the
way I want you. I’m gonna have you. Sure as my name’s Matt
Bigger.”

“Mr. Fields,” Glory called out. “Would you mind if I
rode beside you?”

“Won’t do you no good,” Matt said with a soft
chuckle. “You’re gonna warm my bed sooner or later.”

Glory urged her horse forward, fighting down a rush
of fear Why did Bigger sound so sure of himself when they were
already on Summerfield land? And what about the other two men?
Surely they’d be able to defend her. Bigger must be bluffing.

But something told her he wasn’t.

They skirted the main house and rode straight to the
Fry place. Jonas heard their noisy approach and sauntered through
the front door dressed in a red flannel undershirt and cotton twill
trousers.

“So you brought the runaway home,” he said as Lester
Fields broke Nathan loose from the others. “And his sweet sister,
too. I got the word you was comin’. Got yer money right here,
includin’ some extra fer Miss Glory.”

“Shouldn't we return Nathan to my mother?” Glory
asked, heart pounding. “After all, she’s the one who offered the
reward.”

“Your mama don’t know a thing about this,” Fry said.
“But you kin bet she’ll be real pleased to git her nigger
back.”

“If my mother doesn’t know about this, where did you
get the money?”

“Miz Louise’s been handin’ more and more of the
business over to me. Seems it were more’n she could handle, you
leavin’ an’ all.”

Glory felt a twinge of conscience. “What are you
planning to do with Nathan?”

“What shoulda been done long ago. But don’t you worry
your pretty little head about it. That’s man’s business.”

“But I
am
worried, Mr. Fry. Whatever you’re
planning, I won’t let you. We’re going to take Nathan to my mother.
That’s an order, Jonas.”

Jonas just smiled. “Sorry, missy. You don’t give
orders ’round here no more.”

“Why don’t I take her on up to the house for ya?”
Matt Bigger offered.

“Good idea,” Jonas agreed.

“No! I’m not going anyplace with that horrible man.
Tell him, Mr. Fields.”

“Tell him what, Lester?” Matt asked, grinning, face
all boyish and innocent.

Neither of the two men answered, just kept their eyes
fixed on the ground, and Glory suddenly understood why Matt Bigger
had been so sure of himself all along. Both Lester Fields and
Spencer James were afraid of Matthew Bigger.

“Listen to me, Jonas,” Glory said. “This man means to
. . . he intends to force his intentions on me.”

Matt Bigger chuckled. “She sure has an imagination,
don’t she? Why if I’d wanted to take you, darlin’, I’d’ve done it
long before now.”

Jonas relaxed. “I know you, Miss Glory. You’re used
to gittin’ yer way. Well, not this time.” He returned his attention
to Bigger. “Already sent word to the committee. They mean to see
justice is done.”

“No!” Glory gasped, jumping down from her horse.
Bigger was out of his saddle in an instant.

“Tie her up and take her home,” Jonas ordered. In
seconds, Glory felt Bigger’s large hands tying her smaller ones in
front of her, then shoving a gag into her mouth. The next thing she
knew she was hoisted into her saddle, and Bigger was leading the
animal away.

“Make sure you untie her ’fore you take her up to the
door. Her mama might not like us manhandlin’ her little girl.”

Matt waved back over his shoulder.

“You boys can camp right here tonight,” Jonas told
the other two men. “Do these niggers good to see what happens when
they try to run away.”

Feet dangling outside her stirrups, Glory gripped the
horse with her knees to keep from bouncing up and down on her
already sore legs, protesting against the gag as Bigger led her
horse farther and farther into the darkness. By the time he
stopped, she could no longer hear the voices of the others. Reining
up beside a huge live oak shrouded by Spanish moss, he pulled her
down from the saddle. Glory felt the metal stirrup pressing into
her back, smelled the horse’s musky scent as she leaned against the
animal’s warm flesh.

Matt slipped the gag from her mouth. “It’s time we
finished our business.”

“You’re on my family’s land, Mr. Bigger. If you harm
me, they’ll see you hang.”

“I ain’t gonna hurt you. I told you that before. But
I gotta have you. My breeches is bustin’ with wantin’ you. You ease
my need, I’ll let you go.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“I’ll take you anyway. Never took a woman against her
wishes before.” He smiled, looking almost handsome. “Never had to.
But I will if you make me.”

“You’ll be hunted down.”

“If I gotta give up my share and leave this part of
the country, that’s what I’ll do.”

Glory felt sick with dread. She licked her lips, now
dry. “I’ll do as you ask. Untie me.”

“I knew you’d see reason. You’re a smart girl. Got
guts, too.” He chuckled as he worked the knot at her wrist.
“Stickin’ that knife in me. That took courage. Never knowed a woman
with courage like yours. Made me want you even more.”

“Why did you wait until now?” she asked, stalling for
time.

“ ’Cause I didn’t want to share you. Figured those
sailors would want a piece of you, too. I don’t like to share my
womenfolk. I like you, Glory. I like you a lot. I’d take you with
me if you’d just say the word.” He turned her to face him, one
rough hand beside her cheek.

“I never seen skin like yours. Like cream it is.” He
dropped his head till his mouth touched her lips. The sensation was
not unpleasant; still, her stomach rolled. She tried to remain
calm, tried to blot the thick feel of his tongue as he forced her
lips apart.

She waited till she felt his hold ease, then with a
quick turn, brought her knee up between his legs. Bigger swore as
she made contact, but she knew her skirts and petticoats had kept
her from doing any real damage. Twisting away, she tried to run,
but got only a few steps before Bigger’s arm snaked around her
waist. He brought her up short, forcing her back against the
muscles of his chest. While she fought to still her trembling, he
pulled the pins from her hair and let the soft strands cascade onto
her shoulders.

“Please let me go,” she whispered. “I can’t do
this.”

Bigger stiffened. “Have it your way.” He scooped her
into his arms and carried her, struggling, to the base of the oak
tree. Pinning both her hands above her head with his larger one, he
used the other to work the buttons on the front of her dress.
Achieving only minimal success, he growled in frustration and
ripped the dress away.

“I hate doin’ it like this, but you ain’t leavin’ me
no choice.” She squirmed against him as he tore away her chemise,
leaving her breasts bare above her demicorset. With an appreciative
groan, he cupped one in his free hand and caressed her nipple with
his thumb. His mouth stilled her protests, his tongue slick and
moist between her teeth.

Fighting to twist away, Glory felt herself freed so
abruptly she jerked backwards, hitting her head with a dull thump
against the tree. When she looked up, Nicholas stood in front of
her, booted feet spread apart, chest dark beneath the open front of
his white linen shirt. Matt Bigger moaned at his feet. Nicholas’s
gray eyes looked so stormy they appeared almost black.

Glory felt a surge of joy so powerful it made her
dizzier than she already was. Clutching the tree, she shook her
head to be certain her husband’s image was real.

Nicholas lifted Bigger off the ground and punched him
again, sending him sprawling. He gained his feet, staggering.
Nicholas spun him around and hit him in the stomach, doubling him
over. A last hard blow glanced off his chin. The young slaver
slumped unconscious to the ground.

Eyes dark with worry, Nicholas turned to Glory. Long
strides carried him to where she sat leaning against the tree.
Kneeling beside her, he pulled her into his arms, cradling her head
against his shoulder.

Glory felt the sting of tears. “I thought you’d gone
to Kristen,” she whispered. “I was afraid I’d lost you.”

“Hash,” he said, drawing her dress together over her
bare breasts and fastening the few buttons that remained. “You’re
all I care about. All I’ve ever cared about. Not Kristen. Not
anyone else.” He kissed her eyes, her nose, her mouth, showing her
his love, proving it in a way no words ever could. He smelled of
leather; his shirt felt crisp beneath her fingers. His breath
tasted warm as their tongues met and he teased the softness inside
her mouth.

When he pulled away, they were both a little shaken.
“You’re
sure
you’re all right?” he said.

“I am now. How did you find me? How did you
know?”

“Jonas Fry’s name was on the poster. We followed you
to his house. Fry told us Bigger had taken you on up to the manor.
We split up to look for you.” He grinned. “Considering your state
of undress, I’m glad I’m the one who found you.”

Just then Mac, Josh, and Jago burst into the
clearing, horses lathered with exertion.

“You found her!” Josh called out.

“Thank the Almighty,” Jago agreed, making the sign of
the cross.

“Aye. It’s good to see ye, lass,” Mac told her.

Glory flashed a grateful smile, clutching the front
of her dress. “It’s good to see you, too. All of you.”

“Jago,” Nicholas said. “Take care of
this—
gentleman,
will you?” Matt Bigger still hadn’t
moved.

“Be a pleasure, Cap’n.”

“Come on.” Nicholas clutched Glory’s arm. “I’ll take
you up to the house. Then the men and I will see to Nathan.”

Head still fuzzy and spinning, Glory pulled away.
“I’m going with you. I want to be sure he’s safe.”

The sound of a gunshot echoed across the darkness.
Glory’s head snapped up. “Nathan,” she breathed. Grabbing up her
skirts, she raced back in the direction they’d come. Nicholas
caught up with her in three long strides.

“We’ll take the horses,” he told her, spinning her
around.

Glory let him lead her back. Nicholas helped her into
the saddle, and they dug in their heels, urging the animals into a
run.

They reached the cabin to find a circle of men
holding torches aloft, flanked by the chain of wide-eyed slaves
along with Lester Fields and Spencer James. In the center, Jonas
Fry stood beside Nathan, who was tied to a post, his ragged shirt
ripped away to expose his broad muscular back.

Nicholas swung down from his horse before it slid to
a halt. “Let him go, Fry,” he ordered.

“The devil you say.”

Jago Dodd tossed Nicholas his pistol. Nicholas caught
the weapon and swung his arm toward the overseer in the same easy
motion, pressing the muzzle of the gun behind the man’s ear.