Chapter Thirteen

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Derek did not like this. No, not in the least.

He did not want that murderous scum anywhere near Arianna. He wanted to conduct this interrogation himself, as far from her as possible. He did not know why he had agreed to let her participate. She knew nothing of forcing a man to talk when he was unwilling to.

Had he not sworn to himself that he would protect her from such gruesome reality? Was torturing a man not worse than a single mortal wound? Why was he agreeing to this? And yet, he knew. He had seen the determination in her eyes when she had explained why she needed to be involved and allowed to question the prisoner. He knew firsthand how the need to take control of one's own life could burn through a soul.

He remembered his first interrogation. Three months into his life as a privateer captain he had captured one of Bailey's men. After a week long process the man had given him a substantial amount of information on his prey. Bailey had disappeared from England without a trace other than the newly voided commission he had signed with the king, and the name of his ship, the Pelican.

It wasn't a pretty memory but it had been a satisfying experience.

Derek's feet kept moving, leading Arianna and Alejandro down to the brig. Arianna was two steps behind him, her outward composure was strong, but her heart fluttered like a scared bird in her chest. She did not know what to expect once they reached the brig. She lifted her chin a notch and took a deep breath, fortifying herself against what was to come.

Alejandro walked behind Arianna and his captain, his cat-o-nine in hand. He was extremely interested to see just what his captain's woman was made of. He had been impressed with her want to do this. He watched as her spine stiffened in front of him. She was having doubts, but her feet never broke pace and, if one was not paying too close attention, her nerves were not readily apparent.

Derek turned one last corner with a glance over his shoulder and then stopped before the first of four solid oak doors. This one and the next had rectangular panels across the center that could be slid open from the outside. Arianna assumed the panel was used to serve food to the room's occupants, if they were served food. Derek pulled a key from his pocket and inserted it into the lock. Arianna lowered her chin once more, and stubborn determination set her jaw as the key turned in the lock and the door swung into the small room. There was a support beam standing vertically in the middle of the room, a pallet lined one wall and a bucket stood in the farthest corner from the door. All in all, the room was no bigger than a square meter. A tall man, like the captain or first mate, would not be able to extend their legs fully in any way while lying down. Even she would feel cramped in the small space.

As it was, a man was on his knees with his wrist and ankles bound around the beam. His shirt was torn and bloody. This was the prisoner. Hensley, they had said his name was.

Derek entered the room and pulled the man's head up quickly by his hair.

"Show some respect. There is a lady present." The growl sent the man's eyes painfully peering into the light at the door. His eyes locked onto Arianna's and opened slowly as they adjusted. Hatred burned bright in their depths.

*****************************************************************************
Admiral Frank Miser dropped his looking glass from his eye and tucked it safely away. The smaller passenger ship at the fore was the one he wanted, the Seahawk. His prey was no more than a mile ahead of him. He could almost feel the girl's presence there.

But what of this other ship, flying a British flag, named the Green Eyed Lady? And why was she tailing the ship he needed to board?

And why were they set on a course that would lead them to New York rather than James Town?

His lordship would be quite pleased with him once he delivered the girl, yet, he was not sure he was willing to take on both ships to retrieve the lady. The ship closest to him was built for speed as well as armed for battle.

Well, he would just have to tail the Seahawk until the other ship cut a new course or they made harbor.
Either way, she was within his sights.

The Duke's Daughter -Wattys2014 Collector's Dream Award Winner-Where stories live. Discover now