Zoe Page 20

  She was amazed that after fever and illness, he had enough strength to think of the lewd things he longed to do to her. She felt him press his erection against her and tensed at the contact.

  “Soon, you’ll be mine and I’ll show you what a real man can do,” he said.

  He pressed his lips roughly against hers. She remained still and waited until his cold, chapped lips pulled away from hers.

  When she felt him remove his hand from the front of her dress, she opened her eyes and stared at him in sadness. He smirked, turning to stumble back to bed.

  “Now, fix me something to eat!” he snapped.

  “Oui, monsieur,” she murmured and went back to the table. She wished the food were laced with arsenic.

  EF Jean-Claude walked over to La Roque. “Monsieur, I am going below for lunch. May I bring you anything? ”

  “No,” La Roque said, looking through a telescope he’d acquired from a deck hand for any sign of the Aventine.

  “As you wish, mon seigneur,” said Jean-Claude, walking away.

  La Roque walked back to Ferdinand, who was cursing at his second-in-command over bad charting of their course.

  “Are we lost? Did we lose them? ” asked La Roque.

  “I know where Delaflote is and we should be in their tailwind by tomorrow evening. Ye and I shall have a chat.”

  Ferdinand led La Roque a distance away and spoke to him in a low voice. “Have ye ever killed a man? ”

  La Roque was insulted. “I can handle myself.”

  “So you know how to use dat? ” Ferdinand pointed at the sword on La Roque’s hip. Thankfully he had chosen the appropriate one in his haste. He longed to drive it through his former friend.

  “As I said: I can hold my own.” Ferdinand smiled and his gold tooth sparkled. La Roque sensed his thoughts. Ferdinand assumed he knew his kind, and wasn’t easily convinced. Then La Roque turned and looked him in the eye. Eyes were what men like Ferdinand felt showed a man’s soul. In that exchange both men saw a similarity that birth and privilege would choose to discount. Satisfied at the steel in La Roque’s gaze, Ferdinand looked away.

  “We will have to take the ship at night. A daylight approach will have us spotted and blown out of the water before we get within a thousand metres.”

  La Roque looked out into the sea. “Isn’t a nighttime approach just as risky? ”

  “For yer pale skin, maybe. Me and my men, we prefer the dark.”

  “Bien. So what is the plan? ”

  “We have guns and gunpowder, but not much. Ye and that boy choose yer weapon, because the moment we reach the ship it’ll be war. We board from the stern, and the fight starts when ye feet tetch their deck. Aye, we clear? ”

  “A simple, direct plan. It sounds good, but can we speed it up? She doesn’t have much time. I feel that.”

  “I do what I can, but we go after dem at night. If I come upon dem beforehand, I will pull back.”

  “Understood.”

  Ferdinand went back to talk to his navigator and La Roque leaned over the edge of the ship. He saw the water bubbling as the Veuve Noire cut through the waves. He said another prayer and held his breath. He had to find her fast. He had to save her. to wait another day to get to his beloved. He wanted to advance now!

  He could hear the men yelling to lower the sails. Ferdinand was slowing the vessel. La Roque decided he couldn’t let that happen.

  EF EF Hours later, in the spectral light of predawn, La Roque came back on deck to see the men rushing about the ship. He looked for Ferdinand, but didn’t see him. Walking around the side, he ran into a short, thin man with large keloid welts on the front and back of his chest, remnants of a lashing administered not long ago. The man wore dirty pants that might once have been white, cut off above his knees, and no shoes.

  When he tried to push past La Roque, the count dragged his arm and asked what was going on.

  “We have spotted the ship,” said the man. “And we’re pulling back.”

  Shocked, La Roque tried to comprehend. He glanced out to the sea, but saw nothing, and raced toward the bridge.

  They had traveled all night with no sight of Delaflote’s ship. Now, finally, at the dawn of the new day, they were approaching it and were about to stop? Damn it! He didn’t want

  Zoé lay on the foul-smelling pallet, facing the wall. The evening before, Douglas had arrived with their meals, but Sheridan had refused to let him enter. She had to accept the tray through the cracked door. Douglas winked as he handed it to her and his small gesture comforted her. For the rest of the evening, she sat at the table and listened to Sheridan talk of his plantation, telling her of the people she would meet and the things she’d see. She detested the tale and hated his voice. What sickened her most was that she would soon disappear altogether when he forced her into his life.

  At one point, she crept cautiously out to the hallway and hurried to the latrine to empty his bedpan. She returned to find him out of bed and reading her letter to Marianne. A surge of anger took her breath away. Without thinking, she ran over and snatched the letter from his hand, dropping the bedpan, which landed on the floor with a loud clank.

  He looked at her, amused. “So you made a friend on the ship? ” he said, and made a grab for her. She stepped away from his hand, folded the letter and put it in her trunk. Sheridan laughed and limped back to bed.

  Eventually, night came and he was still stiff, but his bruising was fading. He demanded she undress and join him. As she disrobed before him, she couldn’t help but let a tear fall. She had to escape. She must find some way to free herself.

  In her knickers and chemise, she covered herself with her arms and walked over to his bed. Moving the blanket over, he smiled and let his eyes roam over her exposed skin. Joining him, she hugged herself, putting her back to him.

  He kissed her head and moved her hair from her shoulders. “Even now, you smell of honey. How is that possible? ”

  She closed her eyes, ignoring his comment and cringing as his hand traveled down her shoulder.

  “Zoé, you were right. I did come for you as a form of revenge for your rejection and Julien’s betrayal of our friendship. I wanted to take what he desired most.”

  Zoé opened her eyes. She thought La Roque didn’t care. Had not he given Sheridan the money for her purchase?

  Sheridan kissed her shoulder. “You’re the most exotic creature I have ever seen.” He buried his face in her silky hair and inhaled. “You have awakened desires in me that I’ve never felt for a Negress. How is that possible? ” He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him.

  She closed her eyes and tears rolled down her cheek. The worst would happen soon. His touch would erase all of her memories of La Roque’s tenderness and replace them with nightmares that were ugly and cruel.

  Sheridan turned her over so he could look into her face. Leaning over her, he saw her tears and smiled. “Oh, I like it when you cry,” he whispered and kissed her eyelids.

  She stiffened and clenched her fists. She felt his rough thin lips press against hers and her heart pounded.

  The front of her nightshirt had a ribbon laced through it that tied at the bodice, holding the top together over her breasts. Sheridan moved his hand across her neck to the ribbon. Zoé felt the ribbon loosen and the air touch her skin, alerting her that she was more exposed to him. Opening her eyes, she looked into his face. His long sandy hair hung from his head, blocking his face from view as his eyes rested on her breast.

  “Monsieur…” she said, her voice cracking as she tried to speak.

  He looked up at her. “You are so beautiful.”

  “Please, don’t do this. I know that I belong to you and I have no say, but please don’t do this. I… I—”

  Sheridan put his finger to her lips. “I don’t want to force you, but I will.”

  “You aren’t well,” she begged. “I just ask that we… that you consider—”

  Sheridan grabbed her hand and pulled it under th
e sheet to touch his stiff manhood. “It’s amazing how every bone in my body aches and my stomach is cramped, but my need to have you is still powerfully strong.” He lowered his face to the crook of her neck.

  “Please, no….” She wept openly, betraying her vow not to beg. Being forced to touch him made her disgusted and desperate.

  “Shh.” He released her hand and further opened her nightshirt. At the sight of her soft, caramel-colored breasts, he grabbed for her. Cupping one breast, he pulled it free. She winced at his roughness and cried out in pain.

  Feeling his chapped lips scrape her skin as his wet, feverish mouth enclosed on her breast made her weep harder. Sheridan clamped his hand over her mouth. Her eyes popped open.

  It was happening now, really happening.

  In a panic, she tore at his hand and hit at him. She would fight back with every bit of her strength. She just couldn’t allow him to have her. She couldn’t bring herself to do it.

  He became more excited and ripped at her knickers, pulling them down. She squirmed, turning her head back and forth to free her mouth from his hand. Finally, his hand moved. She cried out loudly, screaming for him to stop. Sheridan rolled on top of her, forcing her legs open. As he pinned her down with his weight, her breath escaped her lungs. She slapped him across the head as he grabbed her wrists, capturing both with one hand and holding them over her head.

  “NO!! Let me go! NO!!” she screamed as she felt grinding her between her legs. She kicked and squirmed beneath him.

  He grinned down in her face. “Shut up!” he laughed and ripped open her nightshirt, revealing the rest of her body.

  There was a pounding on the door. Sheridan had barely freed himself when he heard the pounding over her cries and screams. Looking up, he frowned.

  “Who goes there? ” he shouted.

  “It is an emergency, sir!”

  Grumbling, Sheridan got up. Zoé backed away from him, her hair wild in her face. She grabbed the pieces of her torn shirt and covered herself. Sheridan retrieved his pants from the floor, stepped into them quickly and went to the door. For the first time, he noticed the chair that Zoé kept wedged under the doorknob. He looked at it curiously, then set it aside and opened the door.

  It was Douglas, holding a glass.

  Sheridan glared at the older man. “What do you want? ”

  Douglas glanced past him and saw Zoé. A spark of fury leapt in his eyes, but he covered it quickly. Keeping his voice humble, he told Sheridan, “I have bad news, sir.”

  Sheridan frowned. “What? ”

  “It’s your ailment. It’s me who’s been helping your slave nurse you back to health.”

  Sheridan looked suspiciously over his shoulder at Zoé. “Yes, I know. You two have done such a good job. I was just showing her how much better I feel.”

  Again, the anger flickered in the cook’s eyes. He struggled to keep his tone polite. “Well, I gave you the wrong potion and though you feel better now, you’re certain to get much worse by the light of tomorrow.”

  Sheridan was stunned. He glanced down at his chest. Some of the lesions had healed but others remained bruised and raw. “What do you mean worse? ”

  Douglas raised the glass. “If you don’t drink the rest of this, your infection is sure to spread. It could kill you before we reach land.”

  Sheridan backed up as Douglas gave him the glass and walked in. Zoé had stopped crying and sat with her hand over her mouth. She couldn’t believe what Douglas was saying, or that Sheridan believed him. It couldn’t be further from the truth, but because Sheridan was solely concerned with his own selfpreservation, he was buying it all.

  Sheridan stared at the glass and took a tentative sip. Douglas took the moment to give Zoé a reassuring look.

  “Were you planning on having a go at her? ” Douglas asked Sheridan casually.

  Sheridan lowered the glass and nodded. “What business of that is yours? ”

  Douglas’ eyes grew wide. “Thank God I got here! The exertion would cause your bruising to spread to your wanker. It’s the most painful thing in the world. You can’t indulge in those activities until the infection is completely gone.”

  An expression of horror came over Sheridan’s face. He rubbed his penis through his pants. At the same time, he looked at Douglas with increasing suspicion. Putting the glass on the table, he said, “You have some fondness for my slave? ”

  “I admire how loyal she was to you. She braved this ship by herself to seek me for help. If she hadn’t, you would have succumbed to your illness and died. She saved your life.”

  Sheridan looked back at Zoé, who had retreated into the corner of the cot. “She is amazing. I’ll give her that.”

  “Make sure you drink all that,” Douglas said, gesturing toward the glass. “Also, I trust that you’ll be joining the Captain in the morning for breakfast. He asked that I extend the offer since he hasn’t seen you for two days.”

  Sheridan nodded and Douglas took his leave. Zoé watched the cook’s departure with a sinking heart. He had prevented the rest of the attack, but what would happen now? The very thought tightened her chest.

  Sheridan climbed back into bed, grabbed her arm and pressed her down to him. “Very well. I shall be better soon and we shall finish this.”

  He wrapped his arms around her. Zoé said nothing and lay stiffly in his embrace. She felt him pull himself closer against her as he buried his face against her throat.

  “Too bad,” he whispered. “But later… later, I’ll show you what a… a… what a good, stiff pr…”

  His words became slurred and trailed away. Soon, he was snoring and she could push her way out of his arms. Once she was safely alongside the bed, she looked down at him. It was odd how quickly he’d fallen asleep. Had Douglas put something in that drink? A sleeping potion, perhaps?

  She stared down at her nemesis and for one long moment of insanity thought about smothering him with a pillow, or smashing his head with a candlestick. But she was incapable of committing murder. Furthermore, he still represented her main protection against the men on the ship. If she killed him, the Captain would no doubt have her hung, but only after his men had finished with her.

  She shivered and hugged herself, then went to her trunk, found some clothes and changed out of her torn undergarments. She went to the door, wedged the chair back under the knob– locking myself in with the monster, she thought, and stretched out on her pallet.

  She wanted to disappear.

  When the sun rose, Zoé was still looking at the same wall. Fear had kept her awake all night, coming up with schemes to escape, none of which made sense or seemed likely to succeed in the harsh light of dawn. She heard Sheridan moan and her heart skipped a beat. She rose to see him reach for her. When he realized she wasn’t there, he opened his eyes, pushed himself up on his elbows and looked around, a flicker of panic in his eyes. Then he saw her, resting on the floor, and his eyes filled with a cruel smugness. He patted the empty place beside him. Her heart thudding, she got up and went to him.

  “Lie down,” he told her. “Right here, next to me.”

  She did. He reached for her, shoved his hand down the front of her nightdress and squeezed her one of breasts. She said nothing and waited for him to release her. He finally did and sat up.

  “We’re having breakfast with the Captain,” he said. “I want you to make yourself extra pretty. Put on one of those dresses you pranced around in at Château La Roque.”

  At the mention of that place, her thoughts went to the man who lived there, of her love for him, the sacrifice she’d made and the cost.

  Sheridan slapped her. “Don’t ever, ever do that again,” he said.

  She held her face, her eyes brimming with tears. She looked at him in genuine puzzlement. “Do what, monsieur?”

  Sheridan looked away. “Let me see you…”

  “See me doing what? ”

  He paused. “Thinking of him.”

  For a moment, she was quiet, and then
she said, “You might own my body, but you will never own my soul.”

  His lower lip trembled with anger. He struck her again.

  “Get dressed, I said. Do it now.”

  EF “Why are you stopping? ” La Roque yelled, rushing toward Ferdinand.

  Ferdinand frowned at him. “Watch your tongue. I am the Captain.”

  La Roque glared at him. “We have to get to her–now!” “Well, now won’t do,” Ferdinand said and turned away.

  La Roque grabbed Ferdinand’s arm and pulled him back. Ferdinand turned on the count, his dark eyes burning through him like smoldering coals. The captain yanked himself free and told La Roque, “We are not in France now. I don’t give a shite about how much money ye have or what ye business is with Delaflote. I won’t run on a suicide mission at ye command.”

  La Roque’s jaw hardened. “We have a deal. If you try to back out of it, then you and I will have a problem. No one, including you, will keep me from getting to her.” He put his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  Ferdinand stared at him and two of his men moved in closer, but the captain raised a hand to hold them off.

  “Aye, ye want to save her,” he told La Roque, “but charging ahead now will kill us all.”

  After a moment, La Roque dropped his hand. He looked out over the ocean. Delaflote’s ship was still no more than a dot on the horizon. What horrors was his love enduring on board that ship? He knew what men were capable of, knew only too well what lust and drink could lead even a decent man to do–and Sheridan, as he could now admit, wasn’t even decent.

  His sweet Zoé was in grave peril. “If we can see them, can’t they see us? ”

  Ferdinand ran his tongue across his gold tooth. “Aye, but they can’t make out me ship yet and since many pass these waters, we are safe. Ye can trust me. Tonight we will have yer Zoé and me revenge.”

  La Roque sighed and clenched his jaw. He didn’t know if she had until tonight. She could very well be lost to him now.

  EF neck. The woman looked at her with a shocked expression. Zoé assumed that she had never seen another like herself dressed so regally.