“Yes, my love. It was not a criticism but merely an explanation. As I was saying, his owner had agreed to allow Mr. Conrad his freedom for a sum certain. Unfortunately, the contract was not in writing, and when the old man died, the son refused to allow Mr. Conrad to purchase his freedom. Instead he was sold to the owner of this plantation, Monsieur Leyritz.” She glanced at her betrothed again. “I approached Monsieur about purchasing Mr. Conrad, but the man set the price ridiculously high, unless I agreed to—” She paused for a moment, and Nathan could swear she was blushing again. “I’m sorry, my dear.”
“There is no need,” Conrad said, his Dutch accent more pronounced than it had been before. “You are correct that the man asks too much.” He took her hand, holding it as if it were a fragile piece of glass. “It was to force you into a type of slavery.”
Miss Marshall cleared her throat. “We have decided our only recourse is for Mr. Conrad to escape to Tortola, where he will be allowed to live as a free man and we can marry.”
Nathan glanced from one to the other. “I take it that is where I come in?”
“Yes.” Miss Marshall nodded. “We need your assistance in hiring a ship to take us to one of the British islands. I do not need your money.”
Nathan felt his lips curl up. “That’s a good thing, Miss Marshall, for I haven’t any. Nor any of my possessions other than these clothes. In fact, how did you know I was here?”
“Pirate attacks are not as common as they once were, and the news that it was your ship spread quickly.” She slid a look at Conrad before continuing. “When Mr. Conrad discovered a white man was being held here, he smuggled a letter out to me.” Miss Marshall gave Nathan a rueful smile. “I saw you once at the Moravian mission on St. Thomas with your eldest daughter. I came right away, hoping to find you alive.”
Nathan’s throat tightened. Good Lord, how he missed his wife and children. If his captors hurt them, he’d kill the blackguards. “My family, do you know if they are all right?”
Miss Marshall’s lips formed a thin line. “It is only talk, and I cannot confirm any of it, but it is said that your manager is stealing from the business and trying to get your wife to sell.”
His hands curled into fists. He’d kill Howden! “I need to return immediately. How soon can we leave?”
“I understand you were quite badly injured.”
He hadn’t been that close to death. At least he didn’t think he had. “Just a broken head and leg. Nothing out of the ordinary.”
Conrad barked a laugh, but the woman just smiled softly. She was the most restful person he’d ever seen, particularly under these circumstances.
“We must assess your ability to travel.” Her voice was low and vaguely comforting. “It will not serve any of us if you were to sicken.”
“I quite agree.” Nathan grinned. “Shall I stand and skip around the chamber?”
“Can you?”
She had him there. “Probably not, but I can walk the length of the room several times before I tire.”
“We were going to take you to a small harbor, but you’d have to cross over the mountain.” She shook her head thoughtfully. “It will not work.”
Conrad moved next to the door. “Someone is coming. We need to go before anyone sees us, but will return later to-day or tomorrow.” He furrowed his brows. “Hopefully with a better plan.”
The couple left as quietly and quickly as they’d entered, and he got into bed.
Not three minutes later, the woman Nathan had decided was the housekeeper, entered with a dirty-looking white man. She placed a tray down on the table. “Tell Willy here if you need help getting up.”
“I think I can manage, but thank you.” He rose, steadying himself against the bed for a moment, more for effect than need. “Do you know when I’ll be released?”
“Can’t tell you. The monsieur’s guest”—she pronounced it mon-sure-e—“didn’t tell me. You’re in no state to go anywhere any way.”
Nathan smiled to himself. “Yes, you’re probably correct.” He walked with deliberately hesitant steps to the table and sat heavily. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
“After the first scare, you weren’t a bit of bother.” She left the room, taking the man with her.
Nathan removed the lid, inhaling the fragrant stew. Wherever he was being held, the cook was definitely French. That, unfortunately, didn’t tell him a damn blasted thing, and he’d forgotten to ask Miss Marshall. He dug into the food. Regaining his strength would be the key to his escape.
Once he’d finished eating, he strode the length of the large room and back again until the shuffling of feet could be heard in the corridor. By the time the door opened, he was in bed pretending to doze.
“There now,” the housekeeper said, “what did I tell you? He’s in no shape to try to leave us. You just go on back to taking care of the field slaves and let me do my work.”
“Just as well,” Willy replied. “I got to take a load over to Le Marin in the morning. I’ll be gone a couple of days.”
“That’s clear across the island!”
