Four

Barry’s head pounded with impatience as he paced the deck of his ship, the Braxton Quest, the next morning, barking out commands. Although he’d hired a few new men on his crew, most of them had been sailing with him for years. So why couldn’t they get anything right now?

“What did you tell me was wrong with the sail?” Barry asked his first mate.

Jeffrey shuffled his large feet and tapped his fingers on his even larger belly. Clearly flustered, the man’s eyes darted everywhere but on Barry.

“Captain, the rope was not securely tied, and last night’s wind ripped the sail. I have Homer and Eric repairing the tear.”

Barry glanced across the deck. Men scurried around with mops. “How do the masts look?” He glanced up, following the thick pole of the fore-mast until reaching the top. “I’m assuming they stayed secure in the wind.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“As long as the beams are secure, we should do fine.”

“Wesley found some birds’ nests along the shelf-pieces, but he couldn’t just sweep them off.” He scratched behind his ear; his long greasy brown hair hanging over his hand.

“Why not?”

“They still had eggs in them. The first nest he tried to remove, the mother bird pecked at his head and wouldn’t leave Wesley alone.” Jeffrey shrugged. “So that one took more time than the others.”

Groaning, Barry rubbed his forehead. “Anything else?”

“Well, some of the men were into their cups a little more than usual, knowing this would be their last trip since you’ll be taking over your father’s position. Needless to say, they were not alert first thing this morning, and some of them became sick on deck.” He pointed to the mops. “Which is why they are cleaning up the deck now, Captain.”

Barry rolled his eyes, holding his breath from snapping at his crew. These men knew better, so why were they so careless now? Perhaps he should give them some leeway, since it was their last time sailing with Captain Braxton.

“Is that all?” he asked his first mate.

“Um, well…no, it’s not all.”

Barry hesitated to ask. Actually, he was afraid to hear what else had gone wrong. “Continue.”

“You see, Captain, the cook had invited a few doxies onto the ship last night, and when he awoke early this morning, he noticed they had taken some of our food from the storeroom.”

Barry clenched his jaw and fisted his hands by his sides. “Did Hank get the food back?”

“No, he can’t find the women, Captain.”

Blowing out a frustrated breath, Barry tried to calm his temper before his crew saw how on edge he was today. “And pray tell, what is Hank going to do about it?”

“Purchase more.”

Barry rubbed his achy neck. He’d been holding in his anger, it tensed his muscles. “Then I suppose we should postpone leaving port until tomorrow morning.”

“That’s a wise choice.”

“I trust you will let the crew know of our plans?”

“Right away.”

“And when you’re finished, let us set up our tent in the marketplace again. We might as well try to sell more artifacts while we’re here.”

“Quite right, Captain.” Jeffrey nodded then spun around to spread the word.

As Barry took the steps down below deck to collect the pieces they would sell, his mind took a different path. Perhaps since he was staying one more day in Turkey, he could call upon the governor again in hopes of seeing his youngest daughter. Of course Barry would make the excuse that he’d enjoyed hearing stories about his father and would like to hear more. Then perhaps he could sneak back into the courtyard and wait for the young woman to come to him.

He’d have to see how late it was when they closed up shop to see if visiting the governor’s home could even happen.

As luck would have it, the day proved very profitable. Many more people were at the marketplace, and the crowd around the shop was almost nonstop. Now as the sun slowly dipped into the horizon, Barry breathed a sigh of relief. As much as he thought about going to see the governor, he was too exhausted. He was also ready to begin his journey home. He’d been away from England too long, and it would take a few more weeks before he stepped back onto his home soil.

The crowd had diminished to just the curious onlookers, so he was able to sit back and watch the Turkish people walk by while Jeffrey helped those who’d come to make a purchase. As Barry scanned the sparse crowd, he came across a familiar figure that stood back, almost as if she were trying to hide as she crouched in a corner behind a crate.

The same servant girl from yesterday.

When his gaze met hers, her eyes widened, so he acted as if he didn’t recognize her by sweeping his gaze further along. If he made a move toward her now, she’d certainly run. He couldn’t have that. Instead, the only way to get to her was to bide his time and sneak behind her when she wasn’t paying attention.

He waited a few minutes before walking the opposite way around the shop. Peeking around the corner, he could see she still hid behind a crate. Slowly, he made his way around the tents, ducking behind the next shop. Within minutes, the back of her came in view. The servant’s head moved from side to side as if she were looking for someone. He grinned. Obviously, she tried to find him.

He crept closer, being as quiet as he could. She didn’t hear him, but still rose, her feet shuffling as if preparing to flee. Reaching out, he grasped her shoulders to keep her in place. Her body stiffened and her head swung around. Her gaze clashed with his.

“I have you now you little imp.”

Color left her face and her lips parted. But before he could enjoy his capture, a hand yanked on his arm, giving him a hard yank until he faced an older man.

The man was the same size in height as Barry, but overly round. His white hair had thinned, leaving a bald spot on top. His brown eyes were dark with malice. “Where do you think you are going, sir? I have caught you red-handed now, so don’t even think about trying to escape.”

Barry blinked, not believing what he heard. He understood their language enough to know what the man was saying, but nothing made sense. What did the man think Barry was doing—and why should he escape?

“Pardon me, but I think you have the wrong man.” Barry shook his head. “What do you think you have caught me doing?”

The very large shopkeeper’s face flamed, his lips curled into a snarl. He lifted his stubborn chin. “I have been warned about men like you from different countries. You are part of those groups who steal our women and sell them in other places, and I will not let you do it again!”

Dumbfounded, Barry stared at the man. Why would the shopkeeper think that? Of course, Barry still held the girl’s arm in a tight grip. He chuckled. “Oh, no, sir. This is not what you think—”

“It is, and you are going to jail. I will see to it that you are punished for your crimes.”