CHAPTER TEN
“HURRY, BEATRICE.”
The older woman grunted as she lengthened her stride. “Those two will learn the price for disregarding instructions once they feel the sting of a switch on their little backsides.”
Eva silently agreed. Although she wasn’t sure she had it in her to take a switch to a child, she’d be fine with Sister Beatrice doing so, as long as it wasn’t too hard. Or for too long. Or with too big a switch.
They had to have sneaked aboard the captain’s ship in the middle of the night. She could think of no other place they’d go. She paused to check on them before preparing for her early predawn prayers, and her heart seized mid-beat at the sight of the empty cots.
The streets were vacant. Guided by the luminescence of a waning moon, and trading speed for caution, she didn’t notice the slumbering drunk until it was too late. Eva tripped over his legs and went sprawling. She hit the ground knees first, scraping off a good amount of skin. Her lantern smashed and went out, shattering the silence of the night as well as her surprised squeak. The man started awake with a muffled curse, only to roll over and go back to sleep. Beatrice helped Eva scramble to her feet, and they tiptoed on to the waterfront at a much slower pace.
Capitaine Gamponetti’s vessel stood proud and unyielding close to the pier. High tide was still a few hours away and would mark the time of departure.
A sturdy plank connecting the schooner to the dock groaned and creaked; wood rubbed wood as the ship shifted and rocked. It meant someone had recently departed.
God willing, it was Capitaine Gamponetti.
No movement yet on the main deck. Eva tried not to think about how many of the crew might be in the brothel on the hill. The thought brought the handsome silver-eyed commander to mind, which had her clenching her teeth again. Miss Kalia and her prophesies and tonics. Humph.
“Him not who him seem to be...”
Well, he certainly wasn’t the type to keep a promise made on a Bible. That was the pirate in him, of course. Although, if he kept the last half, where he promised to prevent the theft of the relics, she’d be satisfied enough to probably forgive him.
The water lapped softly against the hull as they crept on to the vessel. It was likely the children were hiding somewhere below. They surely wouldn’t hide in the captain’s cabin. Eva paused and bit her lower lip, suddenly nervous. They should have thought this through better. Not only were they unfamiliar with the layout, they were now without a light. It had to be as black as a moonless night down there. No telling what they might run into in the dark. Her knees were still throbbing with pain.
A hatch nearby suddenly flipped open with a loud crack, startling Eva. Sister Beatrice grabbed her arm with a gasp. A giant of a man squeezed his shoulders through the opening and scrambled to his feet. His back to them, he strolled over to the rail and proceeded to relieve himself.
Both women froze in fear and mortification. While she was fast enough to dart below through the open hatch, there was no way sister Beatrice could possibly make it.
The man finished, stretched, spun around, and stopped in his tracks, eyes wide. His thick jaw went slack and her stomach took a dive. The man had to be at least a head taller than Capitaine Gamponetti, which meant he was nearly seven feet in height. His face showed signs of battles hard fought; it harbored a crooked, flattened nose; a scar split his left eyebrow into two heavy slashes.
A shocked silence hung between them.
Just as Eva opened her mouth, the man made the sign of the cross and gave them an awkward bow.
“Good morning, sisters,” he said, voice thick, slow and rumbling like boulders rolling down a mountain. Either his brain worked slowly as well, or English wasn’t his primary language.
“Good morning, sir.” Eva was not sure what to say beyond that. They were caught.
“Are you here to...bless our boat?” The man clasped his hands prayerfully in front of him.
“Yes, of course,” Sister Beatrice finally piped up. “We should like to start below .” It had become obvious the man was more brawn than brain.
“I am Manuel,” he said. “I would like you to pray for me. And my cousin, Drago.”
The captain’s loyal, protective cousin. Sister Beatrice shot a doubtful look at her. Taking a chance Eva stepped forward. “We are also looking for two children. Have you seen them?”
Manuel’s eyes widened, slid to the open hatch then down to his feet. His chest rose and fell in short fast breaths.
Ah. Not only had he seen them, he knew where to find them. More confident now, she switched a polite, but authoritative tone. “I should like to talk to them, please. They fled my care without a proper goodbye.”
Manuel’s head lifted a notch. He appeared to ponder her request a moment before releasing a lungful of breath. “This way,” he mumbled.
The descent was steep and as dark as she’d feared. The tang of rotted hemp and saltwater assailed their nostrils. Once they reached the next level down, Sister Beatrice clutched Eva’s tunic for guidance. Manuel led them into a sail room and turned up a lantern until there was enough light to make out walls and objects. Canvas, both old and new, stretched across the floor, some in piles, others folded in layers.
He strode across the room and opened a small corner closet then stepped aside. Sister Beatrice limped up beside Eva and crossed her arms over her chest while glaring at the two-forms huddled inside. “Out with you both, now.”
The children rose glumly to their feet. Jacqueline stared at the big man, aghast. “Manuel,” she whined. “We told you not to tell anyone you saw us!”
Julian laced his fingers on the top of his head and closed his eyes. “You promised you’d keep our secret.”
Manuel’s lips flattened into a straight line. He propped his fists on his hips. “I didn’t tell them I saw you. They only asked to speak with you. I told no secrets.”
“It’s the same thing,” Jacqueline huffed.
“You fled without a proper goodbye,” Manuel mumbled. His shoulders dropped along with his chin. He began to rock forward and back, making Eva want to calm him.
“You did the right thing, know that.” She smiled and lightly patted his arm.
He jerked and stepped away. “No touching!”
Confused, she glanced at the twins. Julian grimaced. Jacqueline’s eyes took up much of her face.
“No touching,” Manuel muttered.
Jacqueline peered up at him. “Manuel, Sister Eva didn’t know you don’t like to be touched.”
He nodded but still didn’t raise his head.
Uncertain what to do or say to him, Eva focused her attention on the children. “You deliberately defied Capitaine Gamponetti’s orders to stay at the abbey.” She addressed Julian. “He trusted you to protect your sister.”
The boy removed his hands from his head only to spread them palms up toward Jacqueline. “That’s what I’m trying to do! I couldn’t let her go without me.”
Eva frowned. “Go without you?” She stared at the young girl. “This is your doing?”
Jacqueline’s lips puckered and twitched back and forth, looking almost remorseful. She lifted her chin. “I very well couldn’t leave Captain Gampo to do everything. Which would he do first? Go to the governor? Save my family? Rescue the relics? What if he’s delayed? Who would warn my brother about the British invasion? Quite honestly, I’m not sure he can complete everything...properly.”
The same thoughts had been swirling in her mind since the man stormed from the convent dressed in his expensive clothes and his cloud of arrogant superiority.
She flicked her gaze to the girl’s face. The signs of sickness had dimmed, her eyes now a bright silver-gray and her mouth fixed in a determined line. Eva narrowed her eyes. Jacqueline knew exactly what she was doing. Stirring the doubts and unease was easy enough to accomplish under the circumstances, and the young girl did it in an expert fashion.
Jacqueline’s smaller hand clasped her fingers and her hushed voice interrupted her thoughts. “Come with us, Sister Eva. Once we arrive, you’ll be able to go immediately to the cathedral with the captain’s men. Julian and I will warn our family. Captain Gampo can meet with the governor. We can all finish our tasks at the same time.”
A strident clanking interrupted their discussion, followed by a sudden lurch beneath their feet.
“The anchor!” Sister Beatrice squeaked, gripping Eva’s arm hard enough to leave a mark. They looked at each other. A decision had to be made now. Either she and Sister Beatrice drag the children up where he would see just how well she cared for his charges after a mere twelve hours in her care, or lurk in the closet and delay the inevitable confrontation as long as possible.
It wasn’t a difficult decision.
Eva dropped her voice low enough only the nun could hear. “Do you think you can confront the captain and tell him it is imperative you travel with him? Release him from any obligation for to see to your safety other than an escort to the convent. Perhaps he’ll agree and even give you a cabin. That would help our cause. The children and I could hide there. The worst that can happen, is he’ll deny you and send you back to the abbey.”
Beatrice pursed her lips and nodded, a glint in her eye. “I’ll see to it.”
Eva addressed Manuel, who fidgeted with the pocket flap of his coat on the other side of the room. “ No need for you to distract your cousin with news of our presence here. I will personally speak with him concerning the children.”
Just not right now.
Julian’s shoulders eased as the big man nodded and threaded his hands together. “Yes, sister, thank you. Can you bless us now?”
Sister Beatrice made the sign of the cross and clasped her hands in prayer. “Heavenly Father, bless Manuel—”
“And Drago.”
“Heavenly Father, bless Manuel and Drago, and the people aboard this vessel. Keep them safe on their journey to New Orleans. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”
“Amen.” Manuel made a satisfied sign of the cross, then gave them a gap-toothed grin. He shuffled down the passageway. Sister Beatrice followed, a bit slower and grumbling about her knees.
Eva gave them a stern glare. “You terrified me by running off like that.”
At least they had the decency to appear somewhat contrite. “We’re sorry, Sister Eva,” Jacqueline finally said. “But we were so worried about Uncle Bernard and Tristan and our cousins, we couldn’t take the chance you’d stop us.”
She would have.
The ship dipped slightly then righted itself and she gripped the closet door for support. Muffled male shouts and laughter came from the upper deck.
Jacqueline ushered Eva inside; Julian followed and closed the door. She swallowed and blinked in the humid, inky darkness, beginning to think this might not have been the right decision.
No going back now. Their course was set.