Haven House, page 9
Damien moved to the front, the boys following, while Francesca, Jessie, and I moved into the centre with the men at our back. I felt the weight of the pistol on my hip. Damien had been insistent that both Francesca and I be armed. Not that either of us had any experience with such items, but he’d argued that we might be separated. That had been enough to end my complaints against arming us.
We moved in relative silence, only the sounds of footfalls and the occasional grump from the children filling the air. We walked and walked for what felt like hours until he raised a hand.
An opening lay ahead, a metal grate overgrown with vines. “Extinguish your lights.”
We followed his instructions while he searched his pocket for a small circlet of keys. He tried several with quiet cursing until one slid within and the gate opened. “Stay here until I call you forward.”
I watched as he slipped through the opening, disappearing from sight. Long, agonising moments passed, and then he returned, urging us forward. “Be quick but silent. Not a word.”
We followed him forward toward a conveyance the likes of which I’d never seen before. He handed us into the rear of the covered wagon, stinking of something I refused to consider. On the side, I’d caught sight of “Night Soil” emblazoned in red and green. Within was a single long bench. I urged the children, men, and Jessie to take a seat, leaving room at the front for myself and the rear for Damien, once he’d climbed aboard.
One child gagged, and I moved forward, shushing them as Damien disappeared for several long moments, my guts squeezing hard with fear. When he reappeared, he clambered inside. The door shut behind us with a clang.
“Shh,” he reminded us all, finger to his lips.
He motioned me forward to the front, where he showed me a sliding window, tiny but enough that he and I could spy on where we were. He tapped the panel between us and the driver, and the vehicle rumbled forward with an odd sway.
We passed the mansion, and I noted the crowd had grown. I looked at Damien, whose face turned grim. On and on we travelled. I moved to the bench and sat down. Constance settled on my lap, thumb in her mouth as she slept in my embrace.
By the time the sun was rising in the sky, Francesca was dozing against Jessie, and the boys had settled against the shoulders of the two men beside them.
Weariness battered me, and I hoped we wouldn’t be travelling much longer when suddenly we stopped.
The sound of birds, their long cries, and the odd watery sound filled my mind.
“Where are we?”
“Wait and see,” Damien offered, and when I looked at him, I could see some of the tension had eased from his features.
Once more, the scraping clang filled the air, and the fresh oxygen chased away the stuffy stink we’d endured for a long while.
Damien was the first out, the men following suit and handing the children down, then reaching out for the bags they dropped to their feet.
When I reached Damien, Aloysius took Constance from my grasp, the child murmuring in her sleep as he held her against his body. Damien took me in his grip, strong fingers spanning my waist as he lifted me and slid my body down his. For a moment, a hint of that magic assailed me. Once on the ground, I stepped away from him, refusing to let anyone question what lay between us.
In the distance, an azure blue filled my gaze. Nearer to me lay sand. “The ocean?” A large vessel rested at anchor, and I gasped. “We’re going on a ship?”
Damien’s lips quirked up. “Yes. Now we need to get down to the beach, so grab Constance.”
Aloysius handed the child back to me. Then he and Frank hefted the bags while the sleepy children groused. We stumbled and lumbered toward the shore. Three rowboats waited, and seamen hurried to help us into the tiny vessels. Damien settled beside me, and the rhythm of the men’s strokes had us moving swiftly away from the shore.
“How did you arrange all of this so quickly?” I glanced at him. He smiled but didn’t answer.
The soft breeze caressed my skin, and exhaustion settled in, making me heavy and relaxed.
At the side of the ship, the seamen grabbed ropes and tied the tiny boats. One man took Constance and, in a feat of athleticism, climbed the side of the ship with her in his very firm grasp. Another assisted Faith while I watched, heart in my throat the entire time. Only when they were safely over the side of the vessel did I breathe again. The boys climbed up like small monkeys. Then Francesca and I were urged to go next. Frank moved in behind the young girl and Damien behind me. The bite of the rope hurt my hands, but I refused to be assisted.
“You’re doing excellently, Miss Francesca,” I heard Frank urging her, while she moaned as if about to be nauseous.
Refusing to show any weakness, I swallowed back the instinctive urge to vomit and climbed, gaze set to the top.
A hand reached down, grasped my wrist as I reached the top, and assisted me over the side. I’d never been so pleased to be on a solid surface, and I waited for Damien to join me. The children were ushered below by Jessie, who’d been followed by Aloysius, and while they muttered and complained, I was thankful that for a short while, the responsibility wasn’t mine.
Damien grasped my hand and dragged me toward the captain.
“Sheriff, when I received your message, I was thankful we were barely a day’s sailing from here,” the captain said. “We’ll raise anchor once the dinghies are raised and secured.”
At that I heard sounds of exertion, grunts, and the squeaking of wheels. I turned to watch as suddenly the small wooden craft rose over the side and up onto odd-looking metal stands. Men called and climbed, rather like an exotic ballet of movement while they secured the tiny boats in place. Once the task was completed, they moved away from view, and I turned back to note the captain had left.
Damien’s gaze had settled on me with a smile. “I take it you’ve never sailed?”
“No. Haven wasn’t a place with ocean views, and we were confined to the house and grounds,” I answered.
He released my hand, and I felt bereft until his arm wound around my shoulders.
“Come, we should go below. You’ll want to wash and change. Jessie will attend to your clothes later, but you’ll need some food before you rest.”
At his words, the overwhelming urge for slumber rose. “I could sleep.”
“Trust me, you’ll wish to bathe,” he said with a laugh.
I sniffed the air and almost gagged. “Of course. You’re right. Take me where I need to be.”
Damien led the way and opened a door at the end of the corridor. “This will be your cabin, Ammy.”
It was small, compact really, but there was a tub waiting for me. I turned to thank him, but he was already shutting the door behind me.
On a sigh, I stripped down and slid into the tub. Thoughtfully, they’d left soap and a dish so I could wash my hair. I scrubbed and rinsed until I was sure no trace of the scent was left on me. The satchel I’d carried sat on the floor, and I slipped from the tub, towel wound around me, and crouched down, opening it.
Once dressed, I sighed. I might be clean, but the clothes I’d removed stank like an outhouse. “Oh, don’t be precious, Amaryllis.”
I headed for the door, aware that during my bath, we must have set sail, as the ship now had a steady rocking movement. Soothing, and not the least nauseating. I smiled. “I’m on a boat.” I’d dreamed about that during those long years at Haven House. Another dream come true, along with my wish to leave that house.
I hurried from the cabin, retracing my steps to the deck. I glanced around and stopped. On the front of the ship, there was a screen which obscured my view somewhat. But I could see feet and a head. Damien’s.
He was washing beyond the screen, and the sight of him, those long legs with water sluicing over him, stilled me. The heat I associated with his nearness turned into a raging firestorm inside my body.
In that moment, I couldn’t lie to myself. I wasn’t just drawn to this man. I yearned for him. The touch and promises he’d made to me were the tip of the enchantment, and it wound around me. It was more. Bigger. Because I lusted for him too.
Desire ran through my veins like quicksilver.
I couldn’t live in a place like Haven House and be unaware of physical desire and lust. It had permeated every inch of the house.
For the first time, I acknowledged it was what I now felt. For Damien.
Rooted to the spot, I watched as he turned, tipping the bucket over him.
The instant he saw me, I knew. His eyes turned smoky green, and the planes of his face tensed. “Ammy.”
That was all it took to have me taking a step forward. Then another. Closer to what I knew I needed, like fresh air in my lungs.
“Damien.”
I’d almost reached him when another voice called, “Sheriff, I—”
I turned, spying the captain where he’d stopped his forward motion, his eyes taking in the tableau before him. I knew exactly what he saw.
A woman—a very forward woman—ogling the man I knew to be naked and bathing behind the screen. A woman someplace she had no right to be.
Oh my God! He’ll think I’m not just fast but also loose.
Heat burned across my cheeks. I’d been discovered about to take part in something forbidden. An unmarried woman—and a man she wasn’t even affianced to—in a compromising situation!
I glanced down and caught sight of Damien’s bare feet, and once more, awareness of just how much of a fool I was slammed into me. Gulping didn’t help, and neither did the hot tide washing over my face, neck, and chest. The blush was a complete giveaway.
“I didn’t mean to intrude,” I mumbled, then fled down the corridor and back to my cabin.
Chapter Nine
I didn’t join anyone for breakfast; instead, I stayed in the cabin and tried to sleep. Facing anyone at this point was too much. Damien may have come and knocked on my door—I was fairly sure it was him, as the lock rattled and I heard someone calling, muffled though it was by the pillow over my head. I’d have to face him later, because hiding wasn’t really me. After all, there weren’t many places to hide on a ship, were there?
I knew the children would be fine. After all, Jessie was there, so I let myself be, drifting finally as exhaustion overcame me. At some point I must have dozed off, because waking—groggy and cold—I could see the sun was sitting on the horizon.
I moved my stiff limbs, used the small privy in the corner, and washed my face in the dish, the water cool.
Brushing my hair, I gazed at myself in the mirror. I would never call myself beautiful, though handsome might suit. Raven-black hair, deep violet-coloured eyes, and fine features. My lips weren’t full. In fact, some might call them thin, but they were a deep rosy red. With my hair returned to the ordered bun at the back of my head, my plain dark green gown smoothed down, I knew procrastinating further wouldn’t help the situation.
I grasped the knob and opened the door before I could talk myself out of it.
The creak and groan of the metal panels didn’t bother me as I climbed the wooden stairs to the deck and the sea air, enervating and stronger than usual, wafted over me.
Just as I placed a foot on the deck, a voice called to me. “Miss Amaryllis, the sheriff asked me to let you know he wishes to see you in the captain’s office.”
I turned to note Aloysius striding toward me. He was a big man, his skin glittering bronze in the fading light. He also had received at least one replacement that I could make out, his gait heavy and slightly lopsided. I’d need to learn his story at some point.
“Of course, Aloysius. If you could direct me to the office?”
He smiled, thick lips widening and his eyes glinting. “This way.”
He motioned to the side of the ship, and I followed him. A hidden door opened wide to admit us, and up a staircase we went. “This ship is quite large. Has the sheriff owned it long?”
“The sheriff don’t own it. At least, not as the sheriff. It belongs to the corporation, Miss Amaryllis.”
“The corporation,” I parroted.
“Oh yes. His mama done started a business when his daddy died. She weren’t just a physiotraducere, but she also owned the business that makes the cogs. It’s why he knew where to find the number.”
I stopped still, and Aloysius turned and smiled. “Don’t feel bad, Miss Amaryllis. He don’t make much of the money he has, and he gives lots away to help those in need. He helps seed companies and organizations what help others. Pays for medications and surgeries too. Even put my sister Kalani through medical school so she could become a physiotraducere. She worked for him while she studied and is now in her own clinic.”
I bit my lip. He was a philanthropist of note, then. “So why does he…?” I waved my hand, and Aloysius smiled.
“You’ll have to ask him yourself, Miss Amaryllis.”
“Ammy,” I corrected him. “Call me Ammy.”
He shook his head. “Nah-ah. I ain’t doing that. Miss Ammy is the best I can do.”
I smiled. “Then Miss Ammy will do. Thanks, Aloysius.”
He pushed the door open, and I stepped inside an office of gleaming copper and wood, and the door shut behind me.
Damien—the sheriff, I told myself, hoping to ward off the lust that simmered inside me—waited at the desk, his eyes shadowed with fatigue, like dark smudges. “Ammy, you slept?”
“A little,” I replied and stepped closer. “You didn’t.”
He spread his hands over the desk. “Too much to do. Too many questions and not enough answers.”
I took his words as an invitation and settled into the seat opposite him. “I’m so sorry about earlier.”
“Why?” He tilted his head to the side, gazing at me with a strange intensity.
“I… You were bathing. It was unseemly and wrong of me.” The only problem with my words was I wasn’t sorry. Or not completely. That confused me. “But we should talk about—”
He rose. “Stop, Ammy.”
I stared at him as he prowled toward me.
“You liked what you saw.” It wasn’t a question, and my mouth dried at what he inferred.
“I… It was wrong,” I whispered. Lying fixed nothing, and I wanted—needed—to sidestep the question.
“Ammy, you liked what you saw. Yes or no?”
I gulped. “I… Yes.” The word was dragged from somewhere deep inside me.
He reached out, took my hand, and raised me up so I was flat against him.
“Good. If the captain hadn’t come by, we would have done more. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You want what’s between us, the same as I do. I know you’re confused. I know we have much to concentrate on, Ammy. Never be embarrassed, though,” he whispered against my cheek, and I shivered with anticipation of the kiss I knew was coming.
The touch of breath against skin was enervating, and I closed my eyes as I felt him lower his head, then touch his lips against mine. The kiss was dark, carnal, and hungry as fingers dug into skin through the layers of clothing. It wasn’t enough. I yearned for more, but as quickly as the kiss began, he tugged away. I opened my heavy lids and watched him. His own eyes were slumberous.
“We’ll do more soon, Ammy.” Damien caressed my cheek before stepping away, keeping hold of my hand. He led me to the chair beside him, and I sank down before he settled in his own. “We have the records my mother kept.”
That tweaked something in my mind. “Your mother. She made the parts?”
He laughed. “Not herself, but yes, she built the business that manufactures the replacement limbs.”
“Why? Why would a woman who trained as a physiotraducere want to create the parts herself?”
“Because she could never get what she needed. Too many manufacturing companies refused to deal with a woman. They would short the orders, or they’d be the leftovers. My mother took pride in her work. In the end, she came up with ideas to not just streamline her work but to improve the products. Her clients—public and private—were always given the best of her abilities. She and I were both proud of what she achieved.”
I nodded, now that I could understand the reasoning behind her strange choice. “She did well.”
Damien nodded. “The other surgeons used her equipment, and word spread. It meant expanding her manufactory. More men and women employed. More time to do what she wanted when she wasn’t working for the government. Greater profits. She did, however, insist on keeping exact records. Where every piece went. It was part of the agreements she reached with the organisations she supplied, ensuring she received details of every part used.”
This all seemed odd. “Why did she keep the records?”
“Mother walked a fine line. She felt her skills should be kept for those who needed them, not just the wealthy or those with the muscle to hurt. I believe it was along the lines of if one of her patients abused the power and strength that came with the implants, then she could find her notes. Tell what she’d done. Why. If by some chance she was duped, then she’d know by whom.”
I digested his words in silence. She’d done everything she could to safeguard herself in a man’s world.
“The parts you found?”
“I traced the numbers. It’s not good news, Ammy. They were used on a Haven man, as I told you. An enforcer. We know who paid for the work, and the physician involved.”
The gravity of his words had me frowning.
“And?”
“We only know the basics. The surgery was paid for by the Haven House Trust. Ammy, who has access to those funds?”
Scrunching my nose, I fought with my memory. Haven House Trust. I couldn’t place it, though there was a familiarity about it.
“Ammy?”
“I don’t remember.” It was the truth. With some time, I might remember, but…
