Gregory, Lisa (35 page)

The
trio took a hansom to the docks, then boarded the
Susan Harper.
Peljo
came hurrying toward them.

"Cap'n."
He gave something close to a salute. "Didn't expect you back so
soon."

"Well,
I had not expected it either, Peljo. But Dr. Rackingham would like to search
the ship; he is under the impression that I have Miss Devereaux secreted
somewhere on board." He turned toward his companions. "Well, gentlemen,
where would you like to start? My cabin?"

The
search was gratifyingly fruitless. Dr. Rackingham was thorough, and they covered
every inch of the ship, but Katherine was nowhere to be found.

"Are
you satisfied, Doctor?" Hampton asked when they had finished.

Rackingham
said nothing, but the major cut the silence. "Well, I certainly am,
Captain Hampton. It was terribly good of you to allow us to come on board like
this. I promise you—"

"He's
hidden her somewhere in town," Rackingham interrupted him.

"Good
God, man, this is really too much." Revington, whose head felt no better
than Hampton's, swung on the doctor in irritation. "The captain has done
more than enough already. What else can you want? You have blackened his name,
totally without proof, demanded that we search his ship as if he were a common
criminal instead of a gentleman. And then, when he is generous enough to allow us
to search his ship and naturally we find nothing, you insist that he has
somehow spirited this young woman off his ship and hidden her in town!"

"He
could easily have telegraphed his men and had them remove her. No doubt he knew
we were coming; his compatriots would have told him as soon as your attaché
approached them," Dr. Rackingham said stubbornly.

Major
Revington sighed heavily. "Precisely what would you have me do? Have him
arrested? You have absolutely no proof; it is only your word against his. The
only solid evidence we have is that Miss Devereaux is not aboard his ship as
you claimed."

The
old man glared at them both for a moment, then turned and stalked off down the
gangplank. The Englishman shrugged and said, "Dreadfully sorry about all
this, Captain. I hope you realize the position we were in."

"Of
course, Major," Matthew said smoothly.

"I
can assure you that we won't trouble you again."

"Good.
I'm glad it's all settled then."

"Returning
to London? We could have another go at the cards."

"No,
I'm not really needed there for a while. I think I shall stay here for a few
days."

"Well,
do call on me when you come to London."

"Of
course, Major; I shall be happy to."

When
Revington at last followed the doctor down the gangplank, Matthew turned to Peljo.
"You did a good job, Peljo. Make sure Rackingham isn't loitering about and
then you can bring Katherine back here. I'm going to try to catch some
sleep."

"Captain,
didn't you get my telegram?"

"No,
what telegram?"

"I
guess you had already left by the time it got there. I didn't hide Miss
Katherine in Liverpool. She—" he hesitated and then forced out his words,
"she escaped last night."

"What?
Good Lord, Peljo, can't you keep hold of anything?" Matthew thundered.
"First Rackingham gets loose and now Katherine!"

"I
know, sir. I'm sorry; I haven't any excuse. She just tricked me."

Rage
surged through Hampton. "Damn that girl!" Why must she be so
obstinate and willful and defiant! Every time he turned around, it seemed she
had played another trick on him. The thought of his presents for her even now
being carried down to his cabin—their cabin—added fuel to his anger. She hated
him to the marrow of her bones, while he, like a fool, had been out eagerly
buying things to pacify her. Savagely he growled, "Well, let her go then.
Let her go. I've got no more stomach for forcing her."

Slowly
Katherine crept from the fog of sleep. She opened her eyes and blinked; how
peculiar the cabin looked. Then she drifted back into sleep. Later she came to
semiconsciousness to find a maid tugging her awake to force her to eat a bowl
of sticky porridge. Of course, she realized drowsily, she was a little girl and
sick and Betsy was making her eat this awful porridge. Slowly her heavy eyelids
shut. The next time she awakened, her faculties were clearer, and she stared
around her at the dingy, cramped, bare room she was in.

"Matthew?"
her voice came out a frightened whisper. She wet her dry lips and swallowed.
Hadn't she escaped from Matthew? But of course—she had escaped and there had
been those two awful men and then that gentleman had stabbed one with his cane.
How ridiculous; how could he stab anybody with a cane? She pressed her hands to
her swimming head. It felt as if it would inflate and float up to the ceiling
at any moment. Tears started in her eyes and she wanted to whimper. Where was
she? Where was the captain? Peljo? The ship?

Suddenly
the door opened and a woman entered. She was of medium height and very
full-figured; her filmy wrapper was pulled tight against her, revealing every
line of her body, and the globes of her breasts pushed up impudently from the
low neckline. Her hair was long and loose, jet-black; it tumbled freely down
her back. She looked at Katherine contemptuously and tossed back her luxuriant
mane.

"I
do not think you are so much," she sneered. "Parker said you were a
beauty, a 'Venus.' Ha! Let me tell you, Missy, you haven't a tenth of the
appeal I have."

Katherine
stared at her. Who on earth was she?
What
was she? Her face was pretty,
though covered with heavy makeup, bright red on her cheeks and lips, globbed
black on her eyelashes. But now it was set in petulant lines, and hostility
radiated from her. Why? Katherine struggled to sit up, clutching the bedsheet
to her in an attempt to maintain some dignity. (Why was she in her shift, and
where was her dress?)

"What
do you mean?" Her voice came out cracked and small.

The
woman laughed. "What do I mean?" she mimicked. "What do I mean?
Why, just that you're a pale little nothing, no spark. Why, they'll probably
have to pay the men to climb on top of you!"

Suddenly
Katherine remembered standing in the red hallway, remembered quite clearly the
elegant stranger who had rescued her—but of course, there had been a thin blade
concealed in his cane; he
had
stabbed that man. That room, all velvet
and mirrors, filled with men and half-naked women.

"Wait
a minute!" she snapped, her old self returning with a rush, and the woman
looked slightly taken aback. "Where am I? Why did that man bring me here?"

"Can't
you guess? You are in a bordello, dearie. And he brought you here to set you up
in business."

"You
are mad! I'm not a—a—"

"No?"
she jeered. "Well, you soon will be. Ain't you never heard of white
slavery?"

"No."
Katherine shook her head in bewilderment. "What are you talking
about?"

Her
guest cackled. "My, but ain't you the innocent! Well, that won't last
long, either."

"Hazel!"
a strident voice cracked out in the hall. "What are you doing in there?
Get out this instant!"

The
girl's face changed instantly, became younger, fearful, and she scampered out
of the room. The owner of the voice loomed in the doorway. A massive woman,
tightly corseted, swathed in purple. Her face was a mask of paint, her hair
brassy gold, her skin sagging from age. Heavy rings covered her fingers and
jeweled bracelets encased her fleshy arms; a ridiculous lavender feather was stuck
in the stiff mass of her hair and curled down against her cheek. Katherine
choked back a hysterical giggle. What a comical sight she was and yet,
strangely, how frightening. She swung the door to behind her and advanced into
the room.

"I'm
Pearl," she said in a voice to match her bulk. "This is my house and
now you are one of my girls."

"I
haven't the faintest notion what you're talking about," Katherine said
haughtily.

"Oh,
my, high and mighty now, ain't we, girl? Mind you, you be careful now or I'll
have to turn you over to Parker. In general, he ain't too fond of girls,
preferring little boys, if you catch my meaning." She winked lewdly.

"No,
I don't," Katherine said flatly.

"But
he don't dislike a little taming job, now and then, when one of the girls gets
too uppity. American, ain't you? I could tell by your voice." She sighed
and shook her head. "Never got a Yankee girl before, but I hear they're
fearful independent. But," she brightened, "we'll soon take that out
of you."

"Mrs.—Pearl,
I'm afraid you have made a dreadful mistake. My name is Katherine Devereaux,
and my father owns a shipyard in Boston. My disappearance will not go
unnoticed, and my father is not a good man to cross. I suggest you release me
before you get into serious trouble."

The
harridan cackled. "Nice try, lovie, but I don't believe a word of it.
Parker told me you were running away from prison."

"Not
from prison. I was a prisoner, but illegally. I am from Boston, and a
Confederate raider kidnapped me. And when we docked here, I escaped. Don't you
see? The Union Navy is searching for me and no doubt the English authorities,
too. Not to mention Captain Hampton, the man I escaped from."

The
woman listened, faintly smiling, as if she were being told a very entertaining
story. "My, my, you are an important little girl, aren't you? The Union
Navy is looking for you; the Confederates are looking for you; the English are
looking for you. Why, half the countries of the world seem to want you! Don't
worry; I'm sure you will be just as big a hit here, too."

"You
dolt!" Katherine said wrathfully. "I'm telling you the truth. Hampton
will be furious at my leaving and will not rest until he finds me. And I can
guarantee that when he does and finds you've harmed me, he will be enraged.
He'll—he'll kill you. He has a vicious temper and no compassion at all; he
won't hesitate to shoot you."

"Then
I should think you should be the one in fear of him, seeing as how you ran away
from him. Besides, I think you think a little highly of yourself, if you
imagine he's going to be so hot and bothered because you've thrown him over.
Much more likely, I should think, to bury his sorrow in a fling with a few
waterfront doxies. Besides, even if he did look for you, he could never find
you here. Nobody is ever found once they enter the 'Pool docks. Even the police
daren't venture here, except to collect their bribes, of course."

Katherine
tried to hide the ice-cold stab of fear that went through her, but the old
witch caught it and smiled. "That's right, dearie, you just think of it
for a while and I think you will begin to see reason. I shall just leave you
alone with your thoughts now."

She
left, closing the door behind her with an ominous click. Katherine raised her
chin mutinously and whispered, "He will come. He will."

Of
course he would find her; the old hag was simply trying to frighten her. Yet
nagging doubts crept into her mind. She remembered how she had stormed at him
the last time he saw her. He was in London, no doubt surrounded by women who
fawned on him. Probably he regretted not letting her go. Wasn't it likely that
when he saw the beauties of London he would laugh and realize that prison had
so starved him for women he had thought her beautiful when she wasn't at all
really? And when Peljo told him she had gone, wouldn't he just heave a sigh of
relief?

"No,"
she whispered fiercely. "No!" No matter what he thought of her, no
matter how cold and cruel he was to her, his pride would be wounded because she
had escaped, outwitted him. He
would
search for her simply because he
wouldn't be able to stand to let her best him. He would come; he would. And
Pearl underestimated him.
He
could find her. Maybe no one else dared
venture here, but Matthew would. Matthew would search for her, comb the
docks—and Peljo, and his friend who had trapped Dr. Rackingham, and the crew.
He would find her; of course he would. She summoned up a picture of him, hard
and lean and brown, his eyes as cold and gray as the Atlantic. Oh, no, Pearl
just didn't know Matthew, or she could not be so confident.