Wendy Soliman (15 page)

F
ELIX
C
AME
T
O
, S
HOOK
his head in an effort to clear his foggy brain, and groaned aloud. His head was pounding like merry hell. Surely his skull must be broken? He attempted to sit up, but found he was securely bound hand and foot. He didn’t know how long he’d been in the hold, but through the one grimy port-light within his line of vision he could detect fingers of dawn light, shrouded by curling mist, above the flat surface of the sea. So he must have been here, unconscious, for several hours then. He listened but could detect no sounds at all other than the creaking of timber and sawing of ropes as the boat rocked gently at anchor.

Making a monumental effort, he eased himself into a sitting position by putting his elbows to good use against the hard bunk beneath him. He waited for the swimming sensation in his head to subside before looking about him. That he was still in the hold of the boat was obvious. There were several dubious looking sacks piled forward, and assorted seafaring detritus lying about in a haphazard manner. Felix absently concluded that it wasn’t a well-run vessel. Such slipshod seamanship would never pass muster on one of his father’s ships.

A sound behind him caused him to turn his head sharply. He regretted doing so when the pain behind his temple intensified. As it subsided and he could focus again he found he was nose to face with a large rat, which he’d clearly disturbed and which was now anxious to resume the search for its breakfast. The rat cast him a disdainful look and disappeared.

Felix forced his disorientated brain to assess his situation. That Barker knew he was not who he purported to be could no longer be disputed. But was he aware of his true identity and purpose for being here? If he was, how had he made that discovery? Perkins’s loyalty was beyond question, and only two of the Customs men, besides Smithers, knew of the scheme. Both had been in the service for years and personally vouched for by Smithers himself.

Trying to reason out how Barker had rumbled him proved to be too painful, and Felix abandoned the attempt. Instead he turned his still protesting brain to the far more pressing matter of his current predicament, and how he was supposed to escape it. That Perkins was not in the hold, bound hand and foot as well, was surely cause for rejoicing, since it implied that they didn’t know about him. But, that being the case, why had Perkins not attempted to affect his rescue? Perhaps because they did know about him after all, but were holding him elsewhere? Or had already killed him? After all, the life of a mere valet would not be worth a farthing to these ruthless men, whereas his own…

No, that couldn’t be possible. The thought that Perkins could be no more, all due to Felix’s arrogant assumption that he could tackle these people alone, was too depressing to contemplate. He was now acutely aware that he’d blithely persuaded his father to allow him to investigate the matter without taking seriously his warnings as to the inherent dangers. He’d been bored and had wanted to escape far too keenly to properly consider his actions. Well, he was certainly paying the price for his folly now, as no doubt was Perkins. But still, he refused to believe that he’d never see the audacious Londoner again and forced himself to adopt a more positive frame of mind.

Slipping gingerly to the edge of the makeshift bunk, Felix painstakingly drew his legs up until he could manoeuvre them over his hands, which were currently bound behind his back. It took forever, but at last Felix managed to get them in front of him. Apart from being more comfortable, this small victory made him feel much better about his situation. Now perhaps he could work on the ropes that bound his so viciously. He’d already discovered that this was a poorly run ship; surely there was something lying about in this untidy hold that he could use to cut through his bindings.

Although he couldn’t hear any sounds from the crew, he nonetheless assumed that several men must have been left on board. Still, if he could just move about quietly and not alert them as to his wakeful state, perhaps a solution would present itself? Prevented from walking because of his bound feet, Felix moved on his knees, making almost no sound, and conducted a systematic search of the hold. It was slow, painful work, but his patience was eventually rewarded when he happened upon a short metal pipe, designed as a handle for winching ropes. It was broken off sharply at one end, accounting for its presence amongst the rubbish in the hold, no doubt, and it was by no means the ideal object for his purpose. Still, there was nothing better available, and Felix considered that as long as he had sufficient time undisturbed it just might do the job.

He sat back on the bunk and, holding the handle firmly between his knees, commenced the painstaking task of pulling the thick robe binding his hands back and forth, like a saw, across the sharp end of the handle. It seemed he’d hardly started with this work though, and made little impression upon the rope, before the sound of heavy feet on the ladder caused his slim hopes of escape to dissipate as swiftly as the earlier sea mist. Felix only just had time to conceal his prized winch handle behind him before the door opened and Barker stood there, flanked by his son Charles and by his steward, all three of them displaying irksomely triumphant smiles. With a sinking heart Felix detected the sound of at least two more men on the deck above.

“Good morning, your lordship,” Barker said, still smirking. “I trust you slept well?”

“Go to hell!”

“Oh, I dare say I shall, but not through your hand.”

“Whoever sends you there, you’ll doubtless be reunited with old friends.”

“Come, come now, Lord Western, where are those pristine manners that have set all the ladies’ senses reeling?” Barker roared with laughter at his own clumsy attempt at wit. His son dutifully joined in, but didn’t appear to appreciate the joke. Johnson contented himself with an acrimonious glare. “There’s no need to look so venomous,” Barker said, recovering himself. “Do you suppose me to be entirely stupid? Perhaps you do, you wouldn’t be the first. But you might be interested to learn that I’ve known your true identity since the second day of your arrival at my sister’s house. Do not imagine that I leave my daughter and grandchildren there unprotected.” At Felix’s blank expression, he couldn’t resist further boasting. “You were recognized by an acquaintance of mine.”

Felix was about to ask him what he intended to do with him, but realizing the futility of such a question just in time, wisely remained silent.

“I am, however, grateful to you. I was wondering what you were doing in the vicinity, staying somewhere as lowly as my sister’s establishment, but you saved me the trouble of having to find out by coming to me and bringing my daughter back to me in the process.”

“Do you imagine that she would ever live beneath your roof again?” Felix spoke in a lazy drawl, disdain underlying his words.

“Oh, she’ll come home, have no fears in that respect. She was close to giving up her foolish quest for independence before you came along. You’ve merely been of service to me by bringing her back a little sooner than I’d anticipated.”

Felix gave a derisive snort. “You’d be well advised not to count on it!”

“She and my grandchildren will live beneath my roof, where they belong, and do as they’re told before the year is out.”

His voice resonated with confidence, and the steely glint of determination in his eye forced Felix to concede that he’d underestimated the man. All other thoughts were then literally knocked out of his head by Johnson, who reached out and put all of his considerable weight behind a hefty punch. Unprepared, it caught Felix squarely on the side of his face.

“That was for having the nerve to dally with Mrs. Eden,” he growled.

The blow cut Felix below his eye and caused his already throbbing head to erupt with a thousand new pains. But he was damned if he’d reveal the fact to Johnson and took satisfaction from his perplexed expression when he simply shook his head and grinned.

“Actually, I believe Mrs. Eden enjoyed dallying with a gentleman.” Felix’s tone was deliberately provocative.

Johnson roared like a bull and raised one meaty fist, but Barker stayed him with a look. “All in good time, Johnson, all in good time.” He strutted about the hold, clearly enjoying his moment of triumph. “Now then, Lord Western, before I decide what’s to become of you, perhaps you’d care to tell me why you’re here and what you hoped to achieve by it?”

Felix shrugged. “Since you clearly intend to kill me, Barker, why would I give you that satisfaction?”

“Ah, but then there are so many ways to die. Slowly and painfully, as I’m sure Johnson here would be happy to demonstrate, or swiftly and in the manner of a gentleman.” Barker’s eyes, so gentle when they’d regarded his daughter two nights previously, now wore an expression of icy determination.

“I ain’t letting him die like a gent until I know what he did to Mrs. Eden,” Johnson said belligerently.

“A gentleman never kisses and tells, Johnson.” Felix yawned, feigning disinterest. “But, then, you couldn’t be expected to know anything about gentlemanly conduct.”

Once again Johnson lunged at him and managed another aggressive punch before Barker had him pulled off. This time, though, Felix was more prepared and avoided the worst of it.

“What’s the matter with you, man?” Barker demanded of his steward. “Exercise a little self-restraint until I’ve finished with his lordship.”

“But, sir, he’s treated your daughter, my future wife, with disrespect.”

“Your future wife?” Barker frowned. “What the devil are you talking about?”

Felix looked on with satisfaction as Johnson’s confused expression gradually gave way to one of suspicion. Realization was slow to penetrate his brain.

“You promised ’er to me,” he growled, his face puce with rage. “I’ve waited all this time ’cos of what you said. Don’t think to go back on yer word now. You owe me, and we both know it.” He was a giant of a man, and his aggressive demeanour was enough to terrify the bravest of opponents. On Barker it appeared to make no impression whatsoever.

“And you believed me?” he sneered. “Are you mad? You think I’d let an animal like you anywhere near my precious girl?”

“What the — ”

“Promised her to Fothergill as well, didn’t you, Barker? Not above using anything you consider to be yours to get what you want.”

“Yer didn’t!”

“How the hell — ”

Barker and Johnson both spoke at once. When he noticed them glaring at each other with now unconcealed mutual dislike, Felix recognized the means of escape that should have been apparent to him at the start of this altercation. Divide and conquer. Charles Barker had watched developments, but so far had not spoken a word. Felix considered it the height of bad manners to exclude him, and so he addressed him direct.

“Your father likes to make free with what he considers to be his, is that not right?”

“What do you mean?” The words were slurred and spoken with apparent reluctance.

“Oh, come now, Barker, I know it all from your sister. Your lovely wife prefers the intimate company of her father-in-law to that of her husband.” Felix raised a challenging brow. “The lady considers your father to be more of a man than you’ll ever be.” Felix lapsed into satisfied silence, waiting to assess the damage he’d inflicted.

It was a long time before Charles broke that silence. That he knew of his wife’s dalliances was obvious. It was equally clear that he could live with that knowledge, provided no one publicly commented of her indiscretions or his inability to control her. Discovering that a comparative stranger was conversant with the matter, however, appeared to tip him over the edge. But as Felix was well aware, old habits die hard. Seeing his father’s belligerent glare, the outraged light left Charles’s bloodshot eye as quickly as it had arrived. He was still unable to think or act for himself.

“She’s just a whore!”

“Is she, indeed?” Felix was almost enjoying himself.

“Ignore him, Charles,” Barker said tersely, “and concentrate on the matter in hand.”

Felix could see at once that Barker had miscalculated the depth of his son’s antipathy. Charles was willing to bury his head in the sand when it came to his wife’s behaviour, but his father’s assumption that he’d be prepared have it thrown at him in such a humiliating fashion was altogether another matter. It was that, Felix suspected, which succeeded in rousing Charles from his drink-induced lethargy, causing him to let out an anguished bellow as years of suppressed frustration finally gained release.

He crossed the deck and punched his father with all of his considerable strength. He stood over Barker’s sprawled figure, legs firmly planted apart, fists still raised, panting from his exertions. His eyes glistened with satisfaction as he saw his father’s shocked expression. There was a flickering of fear in his eyes too as, for the first time in his son’s life, Barker was unable to direct his actions or anticipate his next move.

It was just the opportunity that Felix had been waiting for. As Johnson turned, confused, to watch the fray, Felix grabbed his winch handle in his bound hands and awkwardly thrust it with all of his might into the centre of Johnson’s bulbous stomach. The man had been standing close to Felix, and in spite of its awkwardness, the attack caught him unawares…but not for long. He screamed a string of vitriol and was upon Felix in seconds, raising something in his hand and bringing it down hard toward his face. Felix, expecting such a response, held up his bound hands. The blow fell across his left arm.

Johnson had attacked him with a dagger. It sliced through his clothing and penetrated the fleshy part of his upper arm. Blood flowed copiously, but Felix ignored it. The pain was intense, but he ignored that, too, focusing hard on quelling the dizziness that assailed him. If he weakened and lost consciousness, he’d be doomed.

Johnson kicked hard at Felix’s prone body, whilst Barker and his son continued to grapple. It was then that the door burst open. Felix had never been more pleased to see his valet’s face in his life.