Free Forgotten Fragrance by Tea Cooper Page B

person had ever called her angel — and he was long gone.
    Moving stealthily to the ladder at the bottom of the hatch again she stood shoulder to shoulder with Mina, straining for any sound above deck. Her fingers rested on the third rung, drumming the long-forgotten pattern until her heart stuttered and a tiny cry escaped her parched lips.
    Mina’s hand reached for hers. ‘Be patient and wait. He is a strong man, that man of yours. He will be safe.’
    â€˜He is not my man. He’s…’ Oh, good heavens…how she wished he were.
    A gut-wrenching curse pierced the silence. Charlotte gathered her skirts and scuttled up the ladder.
    Christian clamped his arm around Henk’s thick neck and reefed his head back, cutting off his curse. ‘Don’t even try to move,’ he spat, ‘this knife’s sharp enough to cut your balls off in one swipe.’ He rammed his knee below Henk’s flabby buttocks, as a terse reminder he knew where to look. Henk’s body sagged. Hiking his knee higher into Henk’s back, Christian pinned him against the wheel and leant over his shoulder. With exaggerated precision he ran the razor-sharp tip of the curved blade down Henk’s cheek. Blood blossomed forming a long, thin trail down his face.
    â€˜Turn around slowly and show me your lying eyes.’ Christian loosened his grip to allow Henk to move then forced him back against the wheel. ‘Call the rest of the crew up here. Tell them you made a mistake.’
    Pale eyes flashed and a gust of putrid breath fanned Christian’s face before he realised his mistake.
    Thick fingers clutched his throat and wrenched him off Henk. Mina’s knife clattered to the deck. The grip on his neck tightened. Henk planted his hand flat against his chest and pushed, sending him lurching back into Bristol’s fleshy embrace.
    â€˜Rule number one, boy. Always cover your back.’ Henk gave a final shove and Bristol released him, sending him spinning across the deck.
    His head connected with the bulwark with an almighty thud. Pinpricks of light danced across his vision as he fought the enveloping darkness. Forcing the stars from his eyes Christian staggered to his feet only to be pushed face first back onto the deck by Bristol’s heavy-booted foot.
    â€˜Don’t you know when to give up? Looks like we might have to teach the boy a lesson.’ Henk’s throaty chuckle pierced the fug in his brain. A row of mismatched boots and bare feet filled his vision. He craned upwards. The entire crew stood ranked behind Henk, even Cookie. Their crow of agreement chilled him to the bone.
    Christian struggled against the weight of the boot pressing his back to the deck. It lifted. He heaved himself onto all fours and thence to his feet. The depth of his foolishness hit him. He’d presumed Henk would be alone. The wily old fool had more sense.
    â€˜So we’re goin’ to teach him a lesson?’ Henk queried.
    The ominous jeer of approval speared Christian’s guts.
    â€˜And what are we goin’ to do?’
    With those words Henk made clear the elaborate game he played. His fate had been decreed.
    â€˜Treat him like a Dutchie, hey!’ The expression of loathing in Henk’s yellow-green eyes belied his jovial tone.
    â€˜Yeah!’ The chorus resounded in Christian’s ears, accompanied by the reek of rum and vengeance. Had Jonas known of Henk’s illegal trading? The picture of the old man as he had first seen him flashed in front of his eyes, leaning over him, his white beard tickling his face as he breathed life into his sodden lungs. He owed Jonas not only his life but also his dream. Jonas’ dream, the Zephyrus , the ship he had built with his own hands would once again fly with the wind across the oceans, free of the stench of whale oil, smoke and the taint of corruption. He’d made Jonas a promise. The old man delivered his end of the bargain. Would