Captured (26 page)

He nodded, appearing too afraid to speak.

Moments later the slave returned with a tall, aging White man.

“Hampton?”

His eyes widened. “Who are you? What is the meaning of this?”

“We’re here for Ben and Sarah Sullivan. Where are they?”

“Please,” the man voiced, trembling. “Take whatever you want, just don’t kill us.”

“Ben and Sarah!”

“Why?”

James quickly put the bore of his pistol against Hampton’s temple and held it there. “Where are they?”

His wife appeared at the top of the stairs. “Harold, what’s…” Her voice and words trailed off as she took in the men crowded in the foyer. “Oh!”

“Ma’am. Sarah Sullivan. Where is she?”

“Why, she’s sleeping.”

“Get her. Now.”

Before she could make sense of what might be happening, Gasper took the stairs two at a time. “Show me.”

They disappeared, but returned a few moments later. Mrs. Hampton held Sarah’s hand.

“Now, Mr. Hampton, where’s her brother?”

“Slave quarters.”

Dominic nodded at James. “Go with him. And Mr. Hampton, please refrain from alerting your overseers or anyone else that will cause me to shoot your wife.”

His eyes widened. “You would shoot a defenseless woman?”

“That’s up to you.”

James forced him towards the back of the house and they disappeared.

Dominic said softly, “Sarah, please come stand by me.”

She looked up at the tearful Mrs. Hampton, who gave her a nod, and Sarah reluctantly walked over to Dominic.

“What do you want with me and Ben?” she asked in a scared voice that although younger in tone was reminiscent of her mother’s.

“We’ll talk once your brother gets here, but we’re not going to hurt you or him.” He could see she was afraid but holding up well.

Hampton and James returned with a sleepy-looking Ben. When he saw Dominic and the others his steps slowed. He studied Dominic as if attempting to remember if and where he’d seen him before. His eyes suddenly widened as if he’d solved the matter.

“Come stand by your sister, Ben, please.”

He took a quick look back at the Hamptons, then crossed the foyer to comply.

Still holding his guns on the couple, Dominic nodded at Gaspar, who took a few lengths of rope from inside his coat and tied up the arms and wrists of Mr. Hampton. Mrs. Hampton was gestured to a chair and given the same binding, as was the slave. They were then all gagged and left in the dark.

Gaspar took Sarah up in the saddle with him and Dominic did the same for Ben, and lit out for the docks. They hoped it would take some time for the Hamptons to free themselves. The last thing they needed were the authorities holding up the departure of the sloop. Earlier, Dominic had ordered the remaining merchandise placed on board the sloop under the mistaken belief that they’d be raising anchor tomorrow as soon as Clare arrived with the children. Now they had the children, but no Clare. He prayed she wasn’t suffering and that he’d get his hands on her abductors as soon as the fates allowed.

Once they were on board, they lifted anchor and sailed up the river and away from Savannah. Esteban then steered them south. Having to drop Sam the guide off in the Key Islands of Florida would further delay their reaching their home but it couldn’t be helped. Luckily, Martinique was less than a day’s sail from Liberté. The sloop had only a few guns and therefore would be useless in an assault, which meant more delay while they spent time readying the
Marie.

Up on the deck of the sloop, the moon supplied light to the nocturnal sail, and the wind was fair, but Dominic, standing by the stern, wished for wings so he could make the journey faster. Esteban was steering them as swiftly as the winds allowed but not swiftly enough for Dominic. The children were below deck and hadn’t said a word since coming on board. He supposed he should go down and see about them, but his concern for Clare had blinded him to all else. Suddenly, they were by his side.

“May we speak with you, sir?”

He looked down at Clare’s children. “Of course.”

“Where are you taking us?”

“To freedom.”

The children exchanged looks.

“Freedom, sir?” Ben echoed.

“Yes. You won’t be captives anymore after this night.”

“But why?”

“Because that is your mother’s wish.”

“Our mother?”

“Yes, Ben. Your mother is very dear to everyone on the sloop and especially to me.”

“Where is she?” Sarah asked.

“On an island called Martinique. We, the crew and I, will sail for her once you are safe at the place that will be home.”

Ben then said, “My sister is very sleepy. Is there a place for her to lie down on the boat?”

Dominic nodded. He walked over and called below for Dot. When she appeared he asked if she would get Sarah settled, and she agreed with a smile.

Once they were gone, Ben asked, “Mama is in trouble, isn’t she?”

Dominic didn’t lie. “Yes, but we’ll rescue her. Don’t worry.”

“I want to go with you.”

Dominic studied him. “It might be better if you stayed with your sister.”

“I can help.”

“Can you climb the rigging, load a cannon, or even swim?”

“No sir, but I’m strong, I can follow instructions, and she is my mother. I promise, you will not regret the decision if you agree.”

Dominic smiled inwardly. He was a boy of heart and courage just like his mother. Dominic knew that if his mother, Marie, had been the one taken, no one in the world would have been able to deny him the opportunity to help return her to those she loved. “You may come, but you’ll do as I say or be chained in the hold, do you understand?”

“Aye, sir.”

The brisk reply made him smile, and Ben did, too, before saying, “Tell me what has happened to her.”

When he was finished, Ben looked out over the water. “These are bad people.”

“Very bad.”

“But we will get her back?”

“Yes, we will.”

“I will hold you to that, sir.”

“I expect nothing less.”

There was silence for a moment.

“That day on the wharf, you knew me?” Ben asked.

“Not until you looked up and I saw your mother’s eyes.”

“What is your name?”

“Dominic LeVeq.”

“Will that be our new name, Sarah and I?”

“If you wish, but I have to marry your mother first.”

“Then I hope we can get her back soon. I believe I will enjoy being a LeVeq.”

Dominic simply smiled, and they both went back to watching the sea.

When Clare awakened she had no idea if it was day or night, or where she might be. Her head ached and there was a terrible taste in her parched mouth. Heat seemed to be pressing down onto her from all sides and she fought to clear her mind. She sensed she was lying on a dirt floor. As she slowly became cognizant of the bindings on her wrists and ankles everything came rushing back: her sale, Violet’s death, Dot running, and the rest. The fear made her whimper.

A man’s voice asked, “Would you care for some water, Clare?”

Through her clouded vision she saw the outline of him standing over her.

“Yes,” she croaked.

He helped her to sit upright, and soon cool fresh water passed her lips. “Slowly now, my dear.”

Her vision gradually cleared and she looked up into the brown eyes of a man she didn’t know. “Hello, we’ve never met, but my name is Eduard LeVeq. Welcome to Martinique.”

Because she knew who he was, tears filled her eyes and slid down her cheeks.

“Are those tears of joy, Clare?”

“Should they be?”

He shrugged. “It depends on what role you choose to play here, but we’ll get you bathed and rested up before I present your options.”

“Dominic will be coming for me.”

He gave her a cold smile. “You say that with such conviction, but alas, he doesn’t know where you are.”

Clare knew he was wrong. Dot was a bright, resourceful young woman. Clare was certain she’d made it back to Savannah and Dominic, but she didn’t reveal her thoughts to Eduard. It would be better if he thought himself invulnerable. Pride goeth before the fall.

“Bring her along, Yves.”

For the first time she noticed the other man. It was Vanweldt’s giant. He picked her up and they followed Eduard out into the hot night.

T

Dominic told them, “Get a message to the drummers. Tell them I want all the men to meet me at the
Marie
as soon as possible.”

“What has happened?” one of the men asked.

“Clare has been taken.”

Gasps were heard. Several men ran to relay his orders to the drummers.

He told the rest, “Once everyone is here, I’ll tell as much of the tale as we know, but until then, I want you back at your stations. Keep an eye out for any passing ships. If you see one alert me.”

“Aye, sir.”

As in Africa, the drummers were positioned at various points around the island and they began pounding out their coded cadences from station to station.

Dominic didn’t think Vanweldt would be foolish enough to be seen in the area again, but it would be just like him to sail by the island just to gloat. “Richmond, borrow a horse from one of the night crew and take Sarah and Dot to Anna, then get back here quickly. Everyone else, to the
Marie.
” He looked down to see Ben striding at his side. The determined set of the lad’s face made Dominic look to Gaspar, who was flanking the boy. The two men shared a quick smile but it soon faded as they set their minds on the battle to come.

An hour later, all the men of the island, along with many of its women and children, too, were gathered by the
Marie.
In the moonlight the torches flickering in hands and others planted in the sand added just enough illumination for them all to see.

Dominic looked out at the concerned faces of those assembled and was reminded of how they’d all come to be on the island in the first place. “Four years ago, the men of the
Marie
and I, aided by Esteban and his crew, laid siege to Martinique because my brother, Eduard, decided to take charge of people he did not own. He has struck again.”

“Oh no,” he heard a woman cry.

“This time he and our old enemy Vanweldt have taken my Clare.”

Everyone listening looked stunned.

“And I want her back!”

Shouts of revenge filled the air. He waited for that to fade, then told them the story of the abduction. “It is imperative that we get the
Marie
refitted as quickly as possible so we can bring Clare home. Are you with me!”

The roar of assent shook the beach. Although many of the men were former slaves, more of them were pirates. They were battle-tested and would follow their captain to the gates of hell should he ask, and they were ready.

At sunrise they began in earnest. The crew moved over the ship like ants, repairing rigging, outfitting the masts, and using the animals to aid in hauling everything on board from guns and cannons to food and shot. Muskets were cleaned, pistols, too. Down the beach a ways, Richmond was overseeing the making of grenades. He showed his helpers, who included Ben, Sarah, and Dot, just how much gunpowder to place inside the small hollowed-out iron balls, while some of the women cut cotton rags into strips to make the fuses.

When the
Marie
was docked after the last voyage, it had taken a day and a half to unload the forty old and inoperable cannons that rode beneath her hold as ship’s ballast. Now they had to be put back again. Ballast gave her balance and weight, and even though the journey to Martinique would be less than a day’s span, the ship still needed ballast to sail proud and upright the way she was supposed to.

As Dominic and Gaspar oversaw the replacement of the ballast, Dominic was getting more and more impatient. He knew he was being hard on everyone with his yelling and finding fault but he couldn’t help it. Every minute they were confined to the dock was another minute Clare spent being held by his brother. He had no idea what Eduard might do to her, but any man who’d planned to enslave three hundred already free people was not someone Dominic wanted Clare to be held by. It had occurred to him that her abduction might be a trap to lure him back to Martinique and it was working, but he hoped Eduard, Sylvie, and Vanweldt were prepared to give their lives to keep Clare with them, because he was ready to give his to set her free.

Gaspar said, “The crew is going to be too angry to sail anywhere when the time comes if you don’t stop telling everyone how to do their job.”

“I know. I’m just anxious.”

“As you should be, but the men know what they’re doing, and doing it as fast as they humanly can.”

“I know.”

“I’m worried about Clare, too. Who knew that day you stole her from the frigate that she would steal your heart?”

“I told you at the time, I thought I was in love.”

Gaspar laughed. “True. You did.”

Esteban walked over to where they stood on the deck. He was ready to sail as well, and like everyone else had pitched in with the loading. “I say we cut Eduard into tiny little bleeding pieces and toss him into the sea.”

“He may be too rank for the sharks,” Dominic said. “But I like the idea.” He’d spent the morning fantasizing myriad ways he could pay Eduard back for his sins; all unsuitable for the eyes or ears of children. “And I’m open to suggestions.”

They were bantering, but they couldn’t gloss over the seriousness of the situation. In truth, there was no guarantee Clare was still on Martinique. Eduard could have set sail for France or places unknown as soon as Vanweldt made delivery, which was why they were outfitting the
Marie
as if they were truly going to sea.

Esteban asked, “Why is Eduard even on Martinique? Didn’t the copy of the will Gabe gave you specifically cut him out?”

Dominic had told them about the will previously. “Yes, it did. Maybe he doesn’t know. I’ve no idea if the London solicitors have informed him or not. Would be nice if I get to tell him, though, don’t you think?”

“I think it would be just. Be an awful way to learn that not only are you not your father’s son but someone else’s bastard.”

Gaspar said sarcastically, “I know I’d want to learn that I’m a bastard from the man I’ve been sneering at as my father’s bastard the bulk of my life.”

They chuckled.

Dominic countered. “I want to see Nancine’s face when I tell him. Being turned out penniless couldn’t happen to a more saintly woman.”

“Aye.”

Clare was in a bedroom of the main house. It was hot, and the open windows looked out over the water and captives in the field working under the late morning sun. There were hundreds of them spanning all ages and genders. She assumed the three men on horseback were overseers. They were very free with the lash, bringing it down on the backs of those deemed slacking, but the punishments appeared to be indiscriminate, as if they were being whipped simply because the overseers had the authority to do so.

She turned away from the window and focused on her own fate. Her stomach no longer felt the queasiness brought on by the awful draught Sylvie had forced her to drink, and her head and vision were now totally clear. When Yves left her inside at whatever time it had been, she’d slept, then got up and bathed in the stand-up tub someone had filled and placed in the room. There were clothes, too; a simple blouse, a lightweight skirt, and rough cotton stockings.

Her musings were interrupted by the sound of a key scratching at the lock on the door. She tensed and waited. When it opened, a young African girl entered bearing a tray. She looked so surprised to see Clare she almost dropped it. Recovering, she set it down on top of the bed, then withdrew silently. The key sounded again, indicating she’d locked Clare in.

The breakfast fare was bread, fruit, and tea. The bread was moldy, the fruit overripe and bruised, but Clare ate what she could of it and washed it down with the tepid tea. She wondered how close Dominic was to arriving. In spite of Eduard’s claim, Clare knew in her heart that he and his men were on their way. Thinking back on the happenings in Charleston, she knew that as a Christian-raised woman she should feel something in the face of Violet’s untimely demise, but there was nothing. Pity perhaps that Violet had let her life be ruled by her inner personal pain, but nothing more. The woman had sold her on the street as if she were a bag of rice.

Clare placed her hand on her stomach and wondered if she was really carrying Dominic’s child. If she was, she hoped it hadn’t been affected by the draught or the anxiety. Taking her mind off that so as not to cause herself more distress, she waited to see what would happen next.

She didn’t have to wait long. A few moments later the door was opened again and this time it was Eduard LeVeq.

“Good morning,
chérie.
Did you rest well?”

“I did.”

He seemed mildly surprised by her easy manner, but Clare had no intention of letting him see her fear; she refused to give him that satisfaction. She also had no plans to trust him.

“Would you care for some fresh air, perhaps?”

“I would, thank you.”

He gestured her out and she led him from the room.

The house was large and well furnished. The wealth of unshuttered windows let in the sea breeze. “This is a lovely house.”

“My father built it. It was the only thing my bastard brother didn’t burn when he raided the place four years ago and stole my slaves.”

And Clare knew why. This was the home of Antoine and Marie. Dominic had been born here and had grown to an adolescent within its walls. She was certain that had he known Eduard would be taking up residence, he probably would have torched it as well.

“Come, let’s see if Mother is ready.”

Clare froze inside. This would be the woman that poisoned Dominic’s mother. She drew in a steadying breath and followed him.

They stepped out onto a sheltered, ground-level verandah. Nancine LeVeq had just finished her morning meal. Clare wondered if her bread had been moldy and her fruit old and bruised.

“Mother, this is Clare.”

She was dressed in a dated but fashionable gown. There was fraying around the collar and on the hems of the half sleeves, and the lace insets were yellowed and worn. The face might have been beautiful in her youth but the aging skin was dry and papery, as if the island’s heat had drawn all the moisture from it. However, the dark eyes were sharp and focused. “Why is she in the house?”

“She’s a guest.”

“Africans are servants, Eduard. Not guests.”

She could have easily been the resurrection of Violet.

“This one is a guest, for now.”

Nancine evaluated Clare critically. “Why?”

“She’s Dominic’s mistress. I have need for her.”

“And you have her in my home? Are you planning to debase yourself the way Antoine did with his African whore?”

“No, Mother. Are you ready for the morning ride?”

“Am I riding with that?” she asked, pointing at Clare.

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll decline.”

He bowed. “As you wish.”

“I wish to go riding,” she countered coolly, “but not with that. You can take me out later, alone.” She gave Clare a look shot through with displeasure and went back inside the house.

Tight-lipped, he said to Clare, “The carriage is this way.”

To her surprise Yves was their driver. As she settled into the seat, she said, “I assumed Yves would have left with Vanweldt and Sylvie.”

“You know Yves?”

“Not personally, no. I saw him with Vanweldt, the afternoon Dominic sank the
Amsterdam.
”

“Yet another sin my brother must pay for. Part of the treasure on that ship was supposed to come to me. As for Yves, he has driven for me before. He and his master have visited numerous times in the past few years. Paul’s new lady is uncomfortable around him, but I’m assuming they all will leave together when the time comes.”

Another surprise. “He and Sylvie are still here?”

“I asked him to transport some troublesome slaves to the market in Antigua. They return this evening and sail for Africa in a few days. I need more slaves. They keep dying.”

Clare turned away so he would not see her satisfaction with that news. Vanweldt hadn’t had the good sense to sail to the other side of the world in advance of Dominic’s wrath; now it would be three birds with one stone. Four, if Dominic chose to count the evil Nancine.

With Yves driving they toured his holdings. The island didn’t appear to be as mountainous as Liberté, but that could have been because of how developed the land was on Martinique. Everywhere she looked there were Africans in cane fields and overseers on horseback, along with processing buildings and hutlike slave quarters. The LeVeq land was spread across the entire eastern side of the island. She noticed no defenses, however; no cannons, no stone walls that would impede an assault by raiders or storms bringing high seas, but maybe Eduard didn’t feel he needed any, or maybe they were just well hidden. Either way, she doubted it would matter to Dominic.

At one of the fields they were flagged down by one of the overseers.

Eduard had Yves stop the carriage.

The man rode over, and she was surprised to see that he was a mulatto.

“Yes, Griggs?”

“Two of the Africans died during the night.”

Eduard sighed angrily. “That’s six this month and we haven’t even gotten into the heat of summer. Give them more water and ten minutes away from the heat every two hours or so.”

“All right.”

“Have you disposed of the bodies?”

“We have.”

“Good. I’ll ride out and see you later this afternoon.”

Clare could see Griggs fighting to keep his attention on Eduard but wanting to get a good look at her. “Very good, sir.”

The man then slid his gaze over Clare. She smoothly turned her face away.

Eduard asked, “Is there anything else?”

“Uh, no sir.”

“Then get back to work.”

The overseer rode off, and Yves got the carriage moving again.

“May I ask where you bury your slaves?” Clare said. “Is there a cemetery?”