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Authors: Jamie Carie
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survived a long, nightmarish journey.
She nodded to Mary Ann. “I will go up and speak to them.” Turning to the other woman, she inclined her head. “Good day, Beatrice. Thank thee for coming. Mary Ann will take thee to the woman I am concerned about.” She hurried up the stairs. If she could save these few in the hold from the horrors of soul driving, it would be some small gift. One thing she knew for certain: they would not have the man who now haunted her.
They would have to fight her for him.
Chapter Six
Frightened people crowded the deck. A tall, burly man, biceps bulging, eyes hardened, with a slashing whip hissing through the air to keep the people pinned like animals against one rail. Children wept and clung to their parents, while the adults gathered them close, their own faces mirroring confusion and fear.
Serena watched, overwhelmed by distress for the despised and desperate. They were a pitiful sight—except for one man. A tall, red-headed fellow who didn’t take kindly to the treatment, as evidenced by the fact that he had engaged two of the officials in a fistfight. Serena turned away just as they caught him and pounded him to the wood of the deck. Clinging to the railing, she was able to skirt around the scene and make her way toward the ship’s captain, determined to hold some rank in this world where she really didn’t belong.
Captain Masters stood at the far side of the deck, his back turned away from the scene. Serena had spoken to him briefly when she and Mary Ann boarded the ship, and he’d seemed a friendly sort then. Now he appeared decidedly uncomfortable.
“Captain, might I have a word with you?”
His turned toward her as if coming out of deep thought, looking for a moment, unable to remember her.
“I am Serena Winter . . . of the Society of Friends?”
“Ah yes, what can I do for you, miss?” His gaze shifted toward the men shouting orders at the crowd. “You shouldn’t be on deck at the moment. As you can see, we are, ah, trying to do business here.”
“Yes, I can see that.” Despite her training to be always moderate in speech, Serena couldn’t keep the disdain from her voice. “There must be a better way to procure indentures for these people.”
The captain straightened to his full height, looking down his nose at her. “Young miss, you haven’t any knowledge in these matters.” His face turned gruff and red. “What do you want?”
Oh, why hadn’t she held her tongue. She needed this man’s cooperation and riling him wasn’t going to help her cause. “I wanted to assure thee and these . . . buyers that the few in the hold are not able to travel. All but one have high fevers. That one is dead.”
The captain started. “Dead, you say? Gad, what a stink down there! I’ll not be responsible! We’ve already docked, and I’m sick to death of this business.”
Serena was not surprised. “Captain, perhaps we might help one another. If thou wilt assure me that those in the hold will not be moved, I will see to it that the dead man is properly buried.”
A gleam lit the captain’s eyes. “A little businesswoman, are thee?” At the stressed “thee,” Serena gritted her teeth. The captain’s eyes narrowed, and she had the distinct impression he was trying to judge her figure through the plain, gray wool of her dress and the black, hooded cape. Serena withstood the insolent scrutiny, chin raised and waiting.
“You are a pretty thing, aren’t you?”
He reached out to touch her cheek, but Serena blocked his hand, leaned toward him, and took the tone of a mother admonishing a child. “Captain, I have come here to help the sick and the starving. One would think that thou wouldst know better how to take care of an investment.” Her voice was quiet, peaceful even, just speaking plain truth in a way that he could do nothing but acknowledge. “Now, about those in the hold, do we have an agreement?”
The captain sighed heavily and nodded. “Sorry,
She nodded to Mary Ann. “I will go up and speak to them.” Turning to the other woman, she inclined her head. “Good day, Beatrice. Thank thee for coming. Mary Ann will take thee to the woman I am concerned about.” She hurried up the stairs. If she could save these few in the hold from the horrors of soul driving, it would be some small gift. One thing she knew for certain: they would not have the man who now haunted her.
They would have to fight her for him.
Chapter Six
Frightened people crowded the deck. A tall, burly man, biceps bulging, eyes hardened, with a slashing whip hissing through the air to keep the people pinned like animals against one rail. Children wept and clung to their parents, while the adults gathered them close, their own faces mirroring confusion and fear.
Serena watched, overwhelmed by distress for the despised and desperate. They were a pitiful sight—except for one man. A tall, red-headed fellow who didn’t take kindly to the treatment, as evidenced by the fact that he had engaged two of the officials in a fistfight. Serena turned away just as they caught him and pounded him to the wood of the deck. Clinging to the railing, she was able to skirt around the scene and make her way toward the ship’s captain, determined to hold some rank in this world where she really didn’t belong.
Captain Masters stood at the far side of the deck, his back turned away from the scene. Serena had spoken to him briefly when she and Mary Ann boarded the ship, and he’d seemed a friendly sort then. Now he appeared decidedly uncomfortable.
“Captain, might I have a word with you?”
His turned toward her as if coming out of deep thought, looking for a moment, unable to remember her.
“I am Serena Winter . . . of the Society of Friends?”
“Ah yes, what can I do for you, miss?” His gaze shifted toward the men shouting orders at the crowd. “You shouldn’t be on deck at the moment. As you can see, we are, ah, trying to do business here.”
“Yes, I can see that.” Despite her training to be always moderate in speech, Serena couldn’t keep the disdain from her voice. “There must be a better way to procure indentures for these people.”
The captain straightened to his full height, looking down his nose at her. “Young miss, you haven’t any knowledge in these matters.” His face turned gruff and red. “What do you want?”
Oh, why hadn’t she held her tongue. She needed this man’s cooperation and riling him wasn’t going to help her cause. “I wanted to assure thee and these . . . buyers that the few in the hold are not able to travel. All but one have high fevers. That one is dead.”
The captain started. “Dead, you say? Gad, what a stink down there! I’ll not be responsible! We’ve already docked, and I’m sick to death of this business.”
Serena was not surprised. “Captain, perhaps we might help one another. If thou wilt assure me that those in the hold will not be moved, I will see to it that the dead man is properly buried.”
A gleam lit the captain’s eyes. “A little businesswoman, are thee?” At the stressed “thee,” Serena gritted her teeth. The captain’s eyes narrowed, and she had the distinct impression he was trying to judge her figure through the plain, gray wool of her dress and the black, hooded cape. Serena withstood the insolent scrutiny, chin raised and waiting.
“You are a pretty thing, aren’t you?”
He reached out to touch her cheek, but Serena blocked his hand, leaned toward him, and took the tone of a mother admonishing a child. “Captain, I have come here to help the sick and the starving. One would think that thou wouldst know better how to take care of an investment.” Her voice was quiet, peaceful even, just speaking plain truth in a way that he could do nothing but acknowledge. “Now, about those in the hold, do we have an agreement?”
The captain sighed heavily and nodded. “Sorry,
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