Forgotten Fragrance by Tea Cooper Page A

tainted. Once her sentence is served and her dues paid she will be able to marry me.’
    The thought of Charlotte tied to the arrogant fool for life made his blood run cold. ‘But what if these women were not convicts, if they had been stolen from their homeland?’ Christian persisted.
    â€˜Stolen from their homeland?’ Marcus guffawed. ‘I can’t see it happening. Press gangs are a thing of the past and besides, I’ve never heard of women being press ganged.’
    â€˜These women are from the South Seas.’
    â€˜Black savages you mean?’ Wainwright’s face flushed as he contemplated the possibility. ‘No hope. Spawn of the devil. Deserve everything they get. No morals, none at all. Stories I could tell you about blacks in Van Diemen’s Land.’
    Charlotte’s face remained a blank mask as she shrank back from the table, her cheekbones standing out against the pallor of her face.
    â€˜Right!’ Henk slammed his fist on the table. ‘So you agree with me and the crew there’s no reason we shouldn’t be carrying a cargo of women to Boyd Town.’
    â€˜I can’t see why not. No. It seems like a reasonable cargo to me.’ Wainwright threw his satisfied grin around the table like pennies to paupers.
    Charlotte’s pale cheeks flooded with colour and the tears welled in her eyes. Before Christian could speak she threw back her chair and stood glaring across the table. ‘Marcus, Mr Wainwright, how can you say such a thing. I saw those poor creatures. They are starving children and almost as naked as the day they were born, caged like animals in the hold.’
    A flash of brimstone sparked in Wainwright’s eye and he pulled his silver fob watch from his pocket and studied it, his thin lips curled in a smirk. ‘Then you have work to do, my dear.’ Thrusting the timepiece back into his pocket he rose from the table and pinned Charlotte with his cold glare. ‘Come with me.’
    Charlotte’s mouth dropped open in astonishment as Wainwright’s hand tightened around her upper arm. Christian leapt to his feet intent on peeling the man’s hands from her body, but a light flickered in her stormy eyes warning him off and he stood helpless as the pompous prick towed his wife-to-be out of the confines of the galley.
    Christian’s rage grew with every subtle sway of Charlotte’s hips as Wainwright dragged her out. She should not suffer such indignity. The sanctimonious jackass had no right to deal with her this way. Anger slanted into his heart like a well-aimed punch, robbing him of breath, winding him.
    As she disappeared from view, Christian slumped back against the wall, sliding down till he sat; his elbows propped on his raised knees and his face covered by his hands.
    Charlotte shrugged away Marcus’ arm as he propelled her onto the deck. A huge moon hung like a ripe melon behind the rigging casting sinister shadows across the ship.
    â€˜So, my dear, your philanthropic nature has come to the fore. I would have thought with your family history you would be happier to leave your past experiences behind you. But if you must, you must. I cannot interfere. God moves in a mysterious way.’
    â€˜Marcus, I cannot leave those children in that state. You should see them. They are caged like animals and it makes no difference what colour their skin is. No one should be kept in those conditions.’
    â€˜So be it. Lead the way.’
    Charlotte skirted a pile of crates stacked beneath the deck rail until she reached the hatch. Someone had to do something and it had become clear to her that Marcus and the other members of the crew cared little for the girls’ welfare. With a great deal of shaking and shoving she pried the cover of the hold loose.
    Marcus stood by, his arms folded, his disapproval evident in his refusal to offer any assistance. The hatch weighed far more than she expected. Christian had