will take you below.’ He nodded to a man standing nearby, who smiled at her as he approached.
‘I hope you will permit me to say how pleased I am to see you safe, Mistress Rowlands. Please, follow me and I will show you where you can rest.’
Kathryn thanked him. When she glanced back she saw that Lorenzo was bending over the man who had been wounded while rowing them back to the galley. She felt a little hurt—clearly she was less important to him than his men. He had saved her and for that she must be grateful but, for a few moments on that mountainside, he had seemed so different. When he held her in his arms, when he had kissed her so softly, she had believed that he truly cared for her, that she was more than an errant girl he had rescued, perhaps for a price.
But she would be foolish to imagine that she was anything more than another captive he had rescued, no more than a galley slave he might snatch from a watery grave. She wondered how much her uncle had promised to pay him for her safe return, and the thought made her heart ache.
She could not but be grateful to him for what he had done, but she did wish that he had done it because he cared for her and not for money.
Following Michael into the cabin, she saw that it was sparsely furnished, unlike the cabin in Don Pablo’s galleon. There was a plain wooden cot with a straw mattress and one thin blanket, a sea chest and a table with maps spread upon it, but nothing else. Clearly the master of this galley lived much as his men did with no concessions to comfort. His home might be the height of luxury, but here there was no softness of any kind.
‘Forgive us, Mistress Rowlands,’ Michael apologised. ‘There was no time to make provision for your comfort. We did not dare delay for we could not be sure what Don Pablo intended. Had he decided to sell you to Rachid in exchange for his daughter, we might have been too late. Taking you from the Spanish merchant was an easier task, for Rachid’s fortress is guarded day and night. No one who is taken there comes out alive unless Rachid wishes it.’
Kathryn shivered as she realised how great had been the danger of her being lost for ever in some harem. ‘Do not apologise,’ she said. ‘I am grateful for all that you and the others have done, sir. If this is how Lorenzo lives on board ship, then it is good enough for me.’
‘Captain Santorini claims no privileges that are not given to the rest of us,’ Michael said. ‘But I know he would not have chosen that you should travel in this way.’
‘Please, no more apologies,’ Kathryn told him, lifting her head proudly. ‘I shall be perfectly comfortable here. I dare say it is more than I should have been given had I been sold to Rachid.’
‘You may thank God for it that you were not,’ Michael said and made the sign of the cross over his breast. ‘Please rest as best you can and food will be brought to you once we are underway.’
Kathryn nodded. After he had gone she went to look out of the tiny porthole at the sea, which seemed wide and empty, then returned to sit on the edge of the bed. Now that she was alone she was beginning to feel the effects of her desperate escape and to realise how close to death she had been on that mountainside. She closed her eyes, shutting out the memory. It was over. She was here on Lorenzo’s galley and safe.
Tears stung her eyes but she would not release them. There was no sense in giving way to her emotions now. She was safe because Lorenzo had risked his life and others to rescue her. He must be angry with her for causing him so much trouble. As yet, he had not chided her for her foolishness, but no doubt that was to come.
Kathryn lay down for a while. She was tired and hungry, and, waking after a fretful sleep that had not refreshed her, she discovered that Michael seemed to have forgotten his promise to bring her food. She got to her feet and pushed a strand of hair back from her face, feeling dirty and crumpled, and also a little cold in her torn petticoat. When Michael returned she would ask him if there was anything she could wear instead of the clothes that had been given her in Don Pablo’s home.
She had just decided that she would go up on deck when she heard a loud boom and the galley shook from stern to prow. Startled, she rushed to the porthole and looked out. It seemed that two galleys were attacking them, and from the flag they were flying, looked as if they might be Corsairs. The pennant had a white background and bore the sign of the crescent and the letter R in a blood-red colour. Something about the bold statement of the Corsair’s flag made her shiver.
It must be some of Rachid’s men! Kathryn felt chilled as she looked out and saw that the shot Lorenzo’s galley had fired had gone home. One of the galleys had been holed and was clearly in some difficulty. The other galley had fired at them and as their vessel rocked, she knew that they had taken a hit, but then several of Lorenzo’s guns roared at once and the second galley, which was very close, was holed. It went down so fast that she could hardly believe her eyes. One moment it was there, firing at them, and she could see fierce-looking men on deck preparing to board and fight. And now it had gone—but there were some men in the water.
The second galley was retreating, leaving their comrades in the water. She could see them screaming, calling out to the men who had deserted them, but as Lorenzo’s guns roared once more she knew that the second Corsair galley dared not stop to pick them up. Surely they would not leave the men to die?
Kathryn went to the door of her cabin, opening it and going to stand on the little deck that was directly above the rows of oarsmen. For a moment she thought that Lorenzo’s crew were going to ignore the men in the water, for they were cheering as they saw that they had routed their enemy. But then she saw that some of the men were at the rails as if to snatch those they could from a watery grave.
‘You should go below, Mistress Rowlands,’ Michael said, coming to her. ‘It is not fitting for you to be here—and like that.’
She glanced down at herself, realising that she must look as if she were in her nightgown. ‘May I not help with the wounded?’
‘We have our own surgeon to do that,’ he told her. ‘Please go below.’
‘But those men in the water…’
‘We shall do what we can. Please go!’
Kathryn retreated, feeling angry and disturbed. She could hear shouting on deck and men moving about, also the movement of oars that told her they were going on. Looking out of the porthole, she saw that there were several bodies floating in the water, but could not tell whether any of them were still alive. She felt the sting of tears, because she knew that those left behind would surely die.
How could Lorenzo abandon them? She had thought he had more compassion. Yet she was foolish to believe in a softer side. For a moment she had glimpsed another man on that mountainside, but in truth he was ruthless. A hard, cold man who saved only those he believed would bring him a profit.
Kathryn felt chilled. She had believed herself to be falling in love with him—but how could she love such a man?
Chapter Five
‘Forgive us,’ Michael said when he brought food and wine to her later. ‘We were attacked by two of Rachid’s galleys, as no doubt you saw, and there was no time for anyone to eat.’
‘Those men in the water…’ Kathryn said. She felt sick to her stomach, revolted by the sight of food. ‘Why did you not stop to pick them up?’
‘We rescued a few, most of them galley slaves,’ Michael said, but she noticed that he would not look at her as he set down the tray of food. ‘Do not
