66 The Love Pirate Read online

  He took an overcoat from the wardrobe and hatless walked out of his cabin and onto the covered deck.

  Although it was so late, there were still sounds of loud laughter coming from the smoking room.

  There, the habitual hard-drinking passengers would still be sitting on the plush-covered sofas with their drinks on tables in front of them.

  There were some people that never seemed to sleep on board ship, but the Saloon was empty and there were only a few tired Stewards moving round to notice Lord Saire walking briskly along the covered deck.

  He felt in need of air and climbed higher onto the top deck where games would be arranged as soon as the ship was in calmer waters.

  In the daytime the place was usually noisy, filled with men taking exercise in one way or another or children playing hide-and-seek round the funnels, masts and superstructure.

  Part of the canvas awning, which would cover the deck as soon as they reached the brilliant sunshine of the Red Sea, was already being erected.

  But three quarters of it was still open to the night and Lord Saire looked up at the stars and felt the air cool on his face.

  It had been very rough in the Bay of Biscay, but ever since they had reached the Mediterranean the weather had mellowed and been exceptionally warm for the time of year.

  It grew cool at night, however. But the nearer they had sailed to Alexandria the warmer it had become and Lord Saire looked forward as few other people did to the heat of the Red Sea.

  The sun, he told himself, would burn away the memories of the thick fogs and sharp frosts of England.

  The deck was completely deserted and he sauntered along with his hands in his pockets, thinking not of Rosemary Murray, as might have been expected, but of his mission to the East and the different people he would be meeting there.

  It still gave him a sense of adventure to journey to places that he had never been to before and he knew that on this trip he would visit new lands and he was determined to learn a great deal about their history and customs before he arrived.

  He had walked in a semicircle and was approaching the stem when out of the shadows beside one of the funnels he heard a woman’s voice say,

  “Lord – Saire?”

  He turned his head in annoyance, impatient at having his thoughts interrupted and he saw someone small approach him.

  In the light of the stars there was a very pale face with huge eyes lifted to his.

  “Forgive me – please forgive me – but I need your help” the same voice said.

  Suddenly he remembered where he had heard it before and where he had seen that heart-shaped face.

  “Miss Alvinston!” he exclaimed. “I had no idea you were on board.”

  “I should not be up here, but I was – h-hiding, and actually I was wondering how I could – approach you – to ask you for h-help.”

  “You are hiding?” Lord Saire repeated. “But from whom?”

  Bertilla glanced nervously over her shoulder as if she felt someone might be listening.

  As she did so, she put out her hand to hold on to the rail of the ship and Lord Saire saw that she was trembling.

  “What has upset you?” he asked. “And why are you here at this hour of the night?”

  ‘Th-that is what I – wanted to tell you,” she answered, “and I know – I am being a nuisance and I should not – bother you, but I don’t know what – else I can – do.”

  There was something so pathetic and so frightened in the way she spoke that Lord Saire said,

  “You know I will help you if it is at all possible. Shall we sit down somewhere?”

  He looked round as he spoke and realised that the deckchairs had all been cleared away for the night, but there was a fixed wooden seat beneath one of the masts.

  “We will sit here,” he suggested and put his hand under her elbow to take her towards it.

  They walked a few feet to the seat and sat down.

  As Bertilla turned herself sideways towards him, she pushed a chiffon scarf back from her hair and he saw how fair it was in the starlight.

  She clasped her hands together and said,

  “You will think it very – foolish and very – stupid of me, but I don’t– know what to – do and there is – no one else I can ask.”

  “Suppose you start at the beginning,” Lord Saire suggested, “and tell me why you are here. I thought you were in London, riding in Hyde Park.”

  “I – know,” Bertilla said, “but Mama had – arranged to send me away.”

  “Where to?”

  “To Sarawak – to my aunt who is a – Missionary there.”

  “A Missionary?” Lord Saire exclaimed.

  Bertilla nodded.

  “Y-yes. Mama thinks that I should be a Missionary too and there was – nowhere else I could go.”

  Bertilla’s voice revealed far more than she said of how the idea had not only frightened but also horrified her.

  Lord Saire’s lips tightened, remembering that he had always disliked Lady Alvinston and thought her a hard unfeeling woman and now he was certain that his instinct about her had been right.

  “So you are going to Sarawak,” he said aloud, “And who is travelling with you?”

  “N-no one,” Bertilla answered, “and that is the – trouble.”

  “No one?”

  Lord Saire could hardly believe what he heard.

  That any woman as a leader of Society should send her daughter, especially one so young and inexperienced as Bertilla, halfway round the world without a chaperone was so incredible that he could hardly believe it to be the truth.

  He was well aware that girls often travelled to India and other parts of the Empire to join their parents or friends.

  But some sort of chaperone was always arranged for the sea voyage and often the wives of Senior Army Officers or diplomats would find themselves responsible for half a dozen protégées who at times were a considerable nuisance.

  But to send a girl alone with no one to look after her was so incredible that Lord Saire found himself for the moment speechless.

  “I realise that I am old enough to look after myself,” Bertilla was saying, “but you see – I am travelling – S-Second Class, and – and there is – a man – ”

  “What man?” Lord Saire enquired almost sharply.

  “He – he is D-Dutch,” Bertilla said, “although I think he has some – Javanese blood in him, and he will not – l-leave me alone.”

  Lord Saire said nothing and she gave a little cry as she went on with her hands clasped together,

  “You will think I am an – idiot – as Mama always says I am – but I cannot avoid him – I spend nearly all my time in my – cabin – but – ”

  Her voice died away, but she was obviously feeling for words and Lord Saire said quietly,

  “What has happened?”

  He knew instinctively without Bertilla telling him that matters had reached a climax.

  “The last few nights – since we have been in the – Mediterranean, a – Steward has brought me – presents,” Bertilla replied, “chocolates and other things that you can – buy on board. I send them back – but he keeps writing me n-notes and requests that I should – join him for a drink”

  She gave a little sigh.

  “He – t-tried to make me do that – the first night on board – but I ran away. I have tried to keep running – but it does not – s-seem to h-help.”

  “What happened tonight?” Lord Saire asked quietly.

  “When I – went to my – cabin after d-dinner – I always hurry out of the d-dining-room in case he should – follow me – I shut my c-cabin door.”

  She paused and Lord Saire could see the fear in her eyes as she added almost in a whisper,

  “The k-key had gone and so had – the b-bolt”

  Lord Saire stiffened and then he said angrily,

  “This is disgraceful! It should not occur on any decent ship!”

  He guessed exactly what had happened
, the Steward had been heavily bribed and the supervision on the Second Class deck was nothing like so strict as that on the First Class.

  “So you came up here,” he said after a moment.

  “I – did not know what – else to d-do,” Bertilla said. “As you know – I am not – supposed to leave the Second Class deck, but then – he would have – l-looked for me and I would have been unable to – escape.”

  The terror in her voice was very obvious and Lord Saire realised that this man, and he could visualise exactly what sort of creature he was, had terrorised the child.

  She was obviously frantic at the idea that she might not be able to go on avoiding him.

  It was impossible, Lord Saire thought, to blame the man too much.

  To him a woman travelling alone would be fair game and doubtless as a Dutchman it had never crossed his mind that Bertilla might have any social status, since she was unaccompanied by a chaperone or even by a lady’s maid.

  Lord Saire realised that Bertilla was looking at him with an expression in her eyes that reminded him of a spaniel he once had owned which used to look at him in very much the same way with a wholehearted trust.

  “You are not to worry yourself,” he asserted.

  As he spoke, he put out his hand and laid it on Bertilla’s as they were clenched together in her lap.

  As he touched them, he gave a little start.

  “You are frozen!” he exclaimed. “But of course – if you have been sitting here for some hours you must be very cold.”

  “I – came away in such a – hurry,” Bertilla explained, “that I – snatched the first coat I could find. I am afraid it is a very – thin one.”

  “I am going to take you below,” Lord Saire said, “and give you a warm drink. Then I will sort out your problem, that I promise you.”

  “I am – so sorry to – worry you.”

  “It is no worry,” he answered, “and you did quite right in coming to me for assistance, I only wish you had done so sooner.”

  Bertilla drew in her breath.

  “You are so kind – but Mama would be very – angry if she knew that I was – speaking to you.”

  Lord Saire remembered the lies and he had known they were lies, that Lady Alvinston had told him about Bertilla.

  She might look very young, he thought, but no one as experienced as he was where women were concerned would believe her to be fourteen.

  Also he very much doubted if she would ever have done anything so drastic as to merit being expelled from school.

  “I suggest,” he said with a smile, “that we forget your mother. One thing which is reassuring is that she will not know what we are doing at this moment.”

  He saw Bertilla smile.

  “I am sure it is wrong to think like that – but, as you say – Mama will not know.”

  “Then come with me,” Lord Saire said.

  They went down the companionway to the next deck and, as he opened the door, Bertilla felt the warmth come out to her, a warmth that seemed to envelop her protectively.

  She had felt very cold on deck and she had known that at first it was not only the chill air of the night but also that she was so frightened.

  It was impossible to tell Lord Saire how every day seemed to bring a new fear from the closer encroachment of Mr. Van de Kaempfer.

  Wherever she went, he seemed to be waiting for her.

  She found it hard to eat because his eyes were on her. She dreaded a knock on her cabin door, which told her that there was another present or note from him.

  She wondered desperately whether it would be wise to confront him and tell him to leave her alone and threaten that if he did not do so she would speak to the Captain.

  Then she thought it would be impossible to say such things to him in public, while if they were alone – she felt herself shiver at what he might do if there was no one else there to prevent him.

  She had never actively been afraid of a man in her life before.

  She had, of course, met men, usually rather old and dull ones, in Bath with her Aunt Margaret.

  They talked to her in the Pump Room where they were drinking the waters and there had been various retired Army Officers and their wives whom Aunt Margaret entertained to tea or occasionally to dinner.

  Although they had paid her compliments and often teased her in a pleasant and informal manner, there had certainly been nothing frightening about them.

  Nothing that had made her shrink with her whole mind and body as she did when faced with Mr. Van de Kaempfer.

  Bertilla was very innocent and she had no idea what a love affair between a man and a woman actually entailed.

  She knew it meant more than an exchange of kisses and that a far greater intimacy was enjoyed by those who were paired together in the house parties her mother attended at great mansions all over the country.

  She had once heard her father and mother having a row over a man who, her father had alleged in a voice of fury, had been taking liberties he would never condone with the woman who bore his name,

  “You are ridiculous, George!” Lady Alvinston said scornfully. “If Francis loves me to distraction, what can I do about it?”

  “You need not encourage the fellow for one thing,” Sir George had thundered, “and if you think I will let you go alone to Dovacourt next week with that young whippersnapper doubtless sleeping in the next room, you are much mistaken!”

  “Really, George! Your insinuations are intolerable!” Lady Alvinston pouted, but not very convincingly.

  Bertilla had found it very confusing, but she had wondered if Francis, whoever he might be, was her mother’s lover.

  She had read about lovers in her history books and, although they did not dwell on such matters at school, it was impossible to ignore the existence of ladies who decorated the Court of Charles II.

  The position of Madame de Maintenon and Madame de Pompadour in France was not concealed nor was the behaviour of George IV not only with Mrs. Fitzherbert but also in his old age with Lady Hereford and Lady Coningham.

  However skilfully such relationships were glossed over in the classroom, as Bertilla read extensively she became aware that love was a very strong weapon in any woman’s hands and as a weapon women had undoubtedly used it all down the ages.

  But love, she was quite certain, was something very different from what Mr. Van de Kaempfer wanted. She knew that whatever it was she would die rather than allow him to touch her and even to think of his thick lips made her feel physically sick.

  Lord Saire was leading her not into the Saloon, although it was deserted, but into the writing room, which he guessed correctly would be completely empty at this time of the night.

  There were several tables with blotters and sunken inkbottles on them and there was also at one end a comfortable sofa.

  “Sit down,” he said to Bertilla, “I am going to fetch you something hot to drink which will prevent you from catching cold.”

  In the light glittering on her fair hair he could see her eyes raised to his with the expression in them that had struck him so forcibly when they were on deck.

  He smiled beguilingly and added,

  “You will be quite safe if I leave you here for two or three minutes. I am only going to find a Steward.”

  He went away, but he was in fact longer than two or three minutes, and before he returned a Steward came into the room with a tray.

  It contained a pot of coffee, one cup and two glasses of brandy.

  “Milk, madam?” he enquired as he poured out the coffee.

  There was something in his calm ordinary voice that made Bertilla feel her fears and agitation beginning to subside.

  She had been terrified, not only by Mr. Van de Kaempfer’s advances but also at the thought of speaking to Lord Saire.

  Her mother would be furious, she knew that, and unless she had been desperate, knowing how outrageous Lady Alvinston would think it would be, she would never have dared to approach him.

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nbsp; He came back and, as he neared the sofa on which she was sitting, he took off his overcoat and threw it down on a chair.

  “Feeling warmer?” he asked.

  She looked up at him and he saw that there was a faint flush on her pale cheeks.

  “The coffee tastes wonderful!” she answered.

  “I want you to drink a glass of brandy.”

  She wrinkled her nose.

  “I don’t like brandy.”

  “That is not important,” he replied. “The brandy is medicinal. The nights in the Mediterranean can be very treacherous and I know that you will not wish to stay in bed for the next three or four days.”

  He saw in the darkness of her eyes what she feared and he said quickly,

  “Don’t worry. I have spoken to the Purser and your things are being moved at this very moment from your cabin up into the First Class.”

  Bertilla looked at him in astonishment and then she whispered,

  “I am – afraid I cannot – pay the difference.”

  “There will be nothing to pay,” Lord Saire answered quietly. “I explained to the Purser the uncomfortable circumstances you have found yourself in. He was deeply apologetic. As someone left the ship at Malta, a cabin is available and it has been allotted to you without your incurring any further charge.”

  “Are you sure – of that?” Bertilla asked.

  “I told you to trust me,” Lord Saire replied.

  “Oh – thank you! Thank you more than I can say! I might have guessed – I felt certain you would – save me.”

  “Then make sure of it and drink up your brandy!”

  She obeyed him, only making a little grimace as the liquid seemed to sear her throat.

  “I will drink some more coffee to take away the taste,” she said.

  “That is a sensible idea,” he agreed, “and now I want you to forget this unfortunate experience and enjoy the rest of your voyage.”

  “He will not be – able to approach me – now that I am on a– different deck,” Bertilla said in a low voice.

  She made the statement as if to reassure herself.

  “You will not be troubled any more by the man in question,” Lord Saire said sharply. “At the same time, as I am sure you must be aware, you should not be travelling alone.”

  “Mama said that she could not afford to send anyone with me.”