He hoped the reddening spreading from his neck to his face was not noticeable in the mid-day shadows inside their makeshift infirmary. “Miss Berry, I’m afraid I’m merely a small part of an ambitious Royal Navy operation that serves a greater cause. We wage war on the slavers at the pleasure of King and country. I can’t take personal credit for the work we do.”
“Well then, perhaps your stomach is not so high-minded and would be happy to join us for supper tonight.” Her light blue eyes twinkled with something like mischief. “We’ll celebrate the deliverance of all these liberated souls with roast chicken, root vegetables from the garden, and perhaps a fruit tart.”
Her father gave her an odd look. “You mean you’ll favor us with the gift of one of your precious hens?” He turned his gaze back to Christopher. “I must warn you it does no good to argue with her. You can’t win. I should know. I’ve been trying for eighteen years.
“Her mother and I knew the minute we saw her as a bright little five-year-old. She was meant to be our daughter.” He removed his spectacles and wiped them with a cloth he’d pulled from his watch pocket. “Rachel spoke four African tribal languages, including Temne, when she came to live with us.”
That solved one mystery. This woman was a treasure. She could communicate in the diverse tribal languages he and his men had struggled to understand for years. And as for treasures, he feared he’d forget himself and brush one of his fingers against her full, kissable lips. He was in dangerous waters.
2
Rachel hated the way Captain Halloren made her feel. She’d been much happier assigning all naval officers to the same pigeonhole in her mind. But then she’d never met one like him.
She’d never met one who, even though he towered over her, and most people in the room, had a very humble air about him. He seemed as though he was always ready to set aside his privilege and do whatever was required by the people around him.
As soon as he’d arrived for supper in their family rooms at the rear of the parsonage, her father had asked him for a few moments of his time because he needed some advice in dealing with a problem. The captain had not hesitated and had disappeared into her father’s study with him. However, a good half hour had passed, and she was beginning to wonder what kind of “problem” would take that long to explain.
Out of the corner of her eye she could see Tenneh poke her head in the side door. She and Mrs Chelly had been preparing their supper in the kitchen behind the parsonage. The vicar shared the hearth there with recently freed captives until they could build their own homes on the plots of land they would receive.
“Tenneh, come here, please.”
“Yes, Miss Berry?”
“How is supper coming?” Rachel rose from the lesson she’d been preparing for her students the next day.
“Everything, um. Everything ready, except the tart.”
Rachel pushed an escaping curl out of her eyes and sighed. Tenneh, a recent addition to their household, was coming along nicely with her English lessons, but she still had a long way to go. It seemed as if Rachel was forever training a new assistant for work at the mission. Most went on to tend to their own homes and vegetable gardens, but many also moved away into less savory work when they became frustrated with farming.
She wished she could imitate her father’s optimism. Every time they lost one of their students, Rachel would chafe at the unfairness. Her father, however, always kept a positive outlook. They were only temporarily heading down a wrong path, he’d say. He was always convinced his “lambs” would return.
Some did, but most of those who abandoned farming found other, sometimes dark paths to follow, like work in the taverns and houses down by the harbor, or even worse, the slaving business. Ironically, slaving was the most lucrative work enterprising former slaves could go into.
She abandoned the list she’d been making of new ideas for her mission class and rose to follow Tenneh out the door to the kitchen. Perhaps she could help the girl with her English while making sure their supper would be on time for the sake of their guest.
Christopher steepledhis hands in front of his face and stared across at the vicar. He doubted the elderly Reverend Berry had any idea what he was asking of him. However, the earnestness in the man’s voice kept him from rejecting the idea outright.
“You must see how intelligent my adopted daughter is. And beautiful, so beautiful. Ever since her mother died last year, I’ve been struggling with my conscience. We’ve brought her up to live as a young English lady. I worry what might become of her if I were to die unexpectedly.”
He lowered his voice. “She was with her mother on a ship liberated by one of your fellow captains. When her mother died, she was alone and taken advantage of by another group of captives. One of the men on the ship who spoke English told us they abused and beat her, because her father was one of the barracoon masters. He was an English sailor before jumping ship to work in the slave-running business.
“I know I’ve been privileged to live as long as I have in this land that can be so lethal to white men. It’s time to admit what has to be done. Before some wasting disease claims this old body of mine, I must make sure Rachel is safe. I’ve already waited too long.” He paused after his speech and gazed expectantly toward Christopher.
“The Royal Navy has long been used to ferry passengers back and forth from ports of duty to England, but I wonder if you’ve considered the possible dangers.”
The vicar seemed surprised and leaned forward.
“I know you always expect the best from the people you deal with, but you should think long and hard before sending Rachel on such a long trip aboard a warship back to England.”
“But you…”
“Yes, I would do everything in my power to ensure her safety. I could turn over my quarters to her and temporarily stay with my midshipmen, but my ship carries nearly two hundred men. And…and Rachel would be the only woman aboard. With my many shipboard responsibilities, I could not ensure her safety.
“Also, I cannot guarantee we would not face unexpected perils along the way. If we encountered a slave ship off Africa, within our purview, we’d have to engage in battle. Of course you also have to consider we won’t go directly back to England, but by way of the squadron base in the West Indies.”
The vicar slumped in his chair as if deflated. He obviously had not considered all the consequences of a sea trip aboard a Royal Navy warship. Suddenly, he leaned forward again, his eyes bright. “Captain, I know this is none of my business, but are you a married man?”
Christopher knew he should resent the question, but all the same, his heart thumped harder at what he suspected was coming next.
