Souls Aflame (24 page)

“Now, then,” he continued, steering her toward the steps, “Suppose you get dressed and join me in the galley for tea. I imagine you’re hungry. I’ll have one of my men get something together for the two of us.”

Bewildered, Julie dressed hurriedly, slipping on a dress and not bothering with petticoats. Her mind was whirling. What did the Yankees have in mind? Were they going to kill Derek?

That thought stabbed at her. Maybe she and Derek didn’t share love, but they’d had many happy times together when they weren’t sparring with each other. True, he was despicable and arrogant, and she found it quite easy to hate him…despite the rapture she had enjoyed in his arms. But that didn’t mean she wanted to see him killed.

Perhaps there was still time to help, she thought with panic. What she could do, she didn’t know, but at least she could try to sneak up to his cabin and talk with him, find out what was going on. What if Captain Guthrie was lying about letting her go? Why, her life might be at stake as well. She would never, ever trust a Yankee!

With these feverish thoughts swirling in her head, she flung the door open to find the narrow hallway flooded with light. Someone had lit the lanterns that hung on the walls.

And then she found herself staring up into the smug face of a man in a dark-blue uniform. He was smirking, as though he knew what she planned to do.

“Miss Marshal, I’m to take you to Captain Guthrie. He’s waiting with tea and food.” He bowed slightly—insolently, she thought.

His hand fastened on her arm before she could protest, and she found herself being walked swiftly down the hallway. They entered the officers’ dining room, and Benjamin Guthrie rose politely in greeting.

A mug of steaming tea sat on the table. Guthrie quickly pulled a chair out for her. “Now, then,” he smiled when they were both seated. “Suppose we talk about what is to be done with you.”

Staring down at the golden liquid in her mug, she murmured that she had no plans. “I’ve no idea where my mother is.”

“There would’ve been difficulty had she tried to return to Savannah,” he remarked. “Fort Pulaski has fallen, as I’m sure you have heard. The Savannah port is sealed off from the sea. I suppose it’s possible she could have made it into Wilmington on a runner, then made her way home by land.”

“We’d already booked passage for England, but she would have been quite upset when she heard of my being kidnapped. I just don’t know what she might’ve done.”

“It’s logical to think she would’ve continued on her journey, possibly hoping your fiancé…what was his name—Oates? Yes, that’s it. She would probably have gone to find him and ask for his help.”

He patted her hand. “Don’t fret, my dear. You’re too beautiful to be so distressed. Finish your tea, and I’ll have my men take you back to our ship. We’ll be leaving soon to sail north. I must report to Washington for further orders now that I’ve settled my score with Arnhardt. I’ll take you with me.”

She pushed her chair back from the table and shrieked, “But I don’t want to go north! I want to go home!”

“Nonsense.” He waved a hand, as though dismissing such an absurd thought. “You’re in the hands of a gentleman now, and if you’ll just relax and leave everything to me, I assure you that you’ll find I have only your best interests at heart.”

Leaving her tea untouched, she arose, and he followed. Then he surprised her by bending to kiss her hand, a strange look on his face as he murmured, “I never forgot your beauty. It haunted me all these months. It’s going to be a pleasure having you in my company…”

She recoiled in horror, and he was quick to assure her he meant her no harm. “I won’t be a rogue, my dear, but I must warn you I will be trying to win your heart—”

“I beg your pardon?” She stepped back.

He blinked his eyes several times. “I said I’d be trying to win your heart. Do you find that so unbelievable? I’m a man without a wife, and I would like to properly court you.”

“I think you share the foolish optimism of your Yankee brethren,” she responded icily.

“I don’t understand…”

It was Julie’s turn to smile. “Like your fellow Yankees, you think you can win something from a southerner. That is folly. You could never win my heart.”

He bowed slightly. “I accept the challenge.”

“There is no challenge,” she snapped in exasperation. “Can’t you understand—”

She fell silent at the sound of someone opening the door behind her. Turning, she saw a craggy-faced man appear and salute Guthrie, his eyes glittering excitedly. “Sir, we’re ready. We’ve got Arnhardt on the plank.”

“Very well. I’ll be right up.”

The sailor saluted again, then turned and quickly left. Captain Guthrie started to follow, but Julie felt a sense of terror and foreboding, and she reached out to clasp his arm. “What was he talking about?” she demanded.

“Don’t burden yourself with unpleasantnesses. Finish your tea, and it won’t be long till someone comes to escort you to my ship.”

“I’m not going anywhere!” She picked up her mug and sent it crashing against the wall as fury soared through her. “I’m going up on deck and find out what’s going on. I have a right to know what fiendish, barbaric torture you damn Yankees have planned for Derek.”

“Derek
, is it?” His eyes narrowed. “Perhaps I was hasty in bestowing sympathy upon you, Miss Marshal. It appears you’ve got a soft spot in your heart for your captor. Very well. I think maybe you should witness how I inflict retribution on my enemies. Come along.”

He allowed her to move ahead of him, and when they reached the steps he moved to help her ascend, but she jerked away from him. She didn’t want a Yankee to touch her. Maybe she didn’t know all there was to know about the politics of the war, but one thing was for certain: to her mind the overbearing Yankees had started it by trying to force their will on the South, and she wanted no part of any of them—not now—not ever.

On deck, lanterns burned, and she could see perhaps twenty of the blue-clad sailors clustered at the bow of the ship. Beyond them, standing on a wooden board which extended out over the water, Derek stood, still nude, his hands bound behind him.

As she moved closer, his eyes fell on her, but only for a moment. Then he turned his gaze back to the sea. He didn’t appear frightened. Actually, he looked quite annoyed about the whole matter.

“Arnhardt,” Captain Guthrie shouted in a mocking tone, “do you have anything to say before we feed you to the sharks?”

Julie stepped back, horror-stricken with the realization of what they were about to do.

There
were
sharks about. Derek had seen them earlier in the day and said it wouldn’t be possible to take another swim. And sharks had quickly taken care of Shad Harky and his fellow mutineers.

Now Derek would share the same fate.

No, she couldn’t let it happen. She told her pounding heart she cared because he was a human being, not because he meant anything deeper to her. They were lovers, nothing more, not ever…

No one was watching her as the men busied themselves and taunted Derek. Glancing about, Julie searched for a weapon, anything with which to try and stop this madness.

Her foot scraped against something as the unpleasant odor of fish filled her nostrils. This was the spot where Derek had scaled and cleaned the fish he’d caught for their breakfast that morning. He hadn’t taken the time to wash away the mess, and now the stench was overwhelming.

Her foot touched the object again, and then she cursed herself for not thinking of it sooner. Stooping quickly, hands groping in the darkness, she touched the knife Derek had used on the fish and quickly hid it in the folds of her skirt as she stood up.

Derek was looking coolly at Guthrie as he asked, “What do you intend to do with her?” He nodded toward Julie.

“She’ll be going to Washington with me,” Guthrie replied. “But don’t be concerned. You’ve made her miserable for the last time. She’s in good hands.” He gestured impatiently. “Is that all you wish to say?”

“What about my ship?”

“Dynamite, Captain.” Guthrie was unable to suppress his glee and broke into happy chuckles, along with his men. He hurried on. “You
have
heard of that marvelous invention, have you not? It was invented by the Swedish physicist, Alfred Nobel. You see, by mixing nitroglycerin with a porous inert absorbent, Nobel has produced a solid that is resistant to shock but readily detonatable by heat or percussion.”

He waved his hand airily. “But what would
you
know of such marvels—you, a common sea rat? Dynamite is going to blow your ship into a million pieces, Arnhardt. The
Ariane
will never run a blockade again.”

Derek threw back his head and laughed tauntingly. “You don’t give a damn whether she runs a blockade or not, you pompous bastard. You only want revenge because I made you look like the fool you are.”

“Now is that any way for an officer to speak in front of a lady?” Guthrie clucked, shaking his head. “Be grateful I don’t have you shot. I
am
giving you a sporting chance, because you did leave my men and me afloat so we could be found.”

Derek laughed. “You call throwing a man overboard, with his hands tied behind his back, giving him a sporting chance? That’s Yankee thinking, I suppose.”

“Let’s get on with it!” Guthrie snapped.

Julie could not contain herself any longer. Lunging forward, she screamed, “Wait! You must let me have a moment with him, please—”

Guthrie looked down at her reproachfully. “Well, I think I was wrong about you, Miss Marshal. Now I find your story about being held against your will quite hard to believe. You must have enjoyed—”

“Oh, I don’t care what you believe! Can’t you grant me one last moment to say goodbye to him?” she pleaded.

His face, in the lanterns’ glow, was almost maniacal. “It probably
will
be goodbye.” He sounded triumphant. “We’ve dumped quite a bit of raw, bloody meat into these waters to draw sharks. I’m sure they’re waiting for their main course now.” He laughed. “So go. Say your goodbyes. You’ve now lost your pride along with your virtue.”

Undaunted by his insults, Julie pushed her way through the sneering, mumbling men, finally breaking through and stepping up on the plank beside Derek.

“Get down, Julie,” he snapped, his face contorted with anger. “You could fall—”

Her arms went around him quickly, and she pressed the knife into his rope-bound hands. “Take it,” she whispered anxiously. “Hurry!”

His eyes widened momentarily as he felt the cold steel, but he did not hesitate to wrap his fingers deftly about it. He stared down at her, caressing her with his eyes as he murmured, “Someday, after I’ve mastered the winds and the tides, I’ll come for you, Julie, and conquer your love.”

She stood on tiptoe, trying to touch his lips with her own, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I never got the stool, Derek. I—I still can’t reach you…”

“And I can’t help you now, misty eyes.” His husky voice sent chills racing through her. “But we’ll meet again.”

She clung to him and was shaken by the turmoil that raged within her. Why was she aching so? Why did she feel such pain and despair? She didn’t love him. She couldn’t possibly…

“Enough!” Captain Guthrie bellowed impatiently. “Get her down. We must move quickly.”

Someone yanked her away as she fought to keep her arms about him. Guthrie was drawing his sword, moving forward toward Derek.
“No…”
The cry came from deep inside, wrenched from her very soul. Struggling against the man who held her, she screamed, “You can’t do this, you Yankee dogs!
No…”

She kicked at the shins of the man who was holding her as Guthrie moved closer to Derek, sword pointed at his back. A sudden movement at the bow made her blood freeze. She stopped struggling and stared at Derek, who was inching his way toward the end of the plank, his back to the water so the Yankees could not see the knife he held behind him.

He turned to look at her one last time, the glow of the lanterns illuminating his face with an almost golden halo, making him appear ghostly. Was he smiling? She strained to see. A gasp escaped her as she realized that, dear God, he
was
smiling!

She swayed, her eyes scanning his strong muscular body. If he could cut the ropes binding his hands, then he had a chance, at least. He was a strong swimmer, and he could make it back to shore. But until he freed himself, he’d be struggling in an awkward position, hands behind his back, beneath the water, sharks all around…

Yet he could still face death and smile so arrogantly, she marveled, awash with respect for the man she had been so sure she despised.

He stepped from the plank. Everyone held his breath as silence descended over the ship.

A loud splash broke the stillness, echoing sharply through the night. The men pushed and shoved against each other as they rushed to the bow to watch, all of them screaming with excitement.

Released and forgotten for the moment, Julie sank to her knees and gave way to hysteria.

“Hell, I can’t see him,” someone yelled.

Another cried, “He never came up.”

They were holding lanterns in their hands, leaning over the bow, stretching as far as they dared. “Not enough light. Can’t see nothing.”