The Duke's Daughter -Wattys2014 Collector's Dream Award Winner-

Chapter Fifteen

Arianna knocked on Trent's cabin door shortly after the sixth hour of the evening. He pulled the door open and waved her in. As she stepped into the cabin she noticed that the table was set for two, a bottle of wine, still corked, sat in a bucket of cold sea water and two covered trenchers were placed opposite each other.

Arianna suddenly felt awkward and nervous in such an intimate setting. She turned and lifted her eyes to Derek's. His eyes were not focused on her own, but were making a downward descent along her curves. That interest she had feared she would not see again, seemed to burn brighter in his eyes, brighter than she had ever previously seen. She exhaled the breath she had not realized that she'd been holding, and a smile played at the corner of her lips. Her mood instantly lifted.

"Good evening, Trent." She addressed him by his title, as he had signed his note with it. She supposed this was not only dinner with a friend, and ally, but a private interlude with an Earl, as well. It was odd that she would think like this now, after all, she had spent the morning curled up upon that very same chest, the fact that he was an Earl had not mattered in the least then. But now... Now that they were both fully dressed, the proprieties that had been instilled in her at a very young age screamed that this encounter was wrong.

However, the tingling sensation that graced her skin wherever his eyes roamed over her clothing, whispered that this was exactly right.

Had she not left England to experience life outside of societies dictates? She had indeed, and there was no one here to enforce those dictates. Gooseflesh spread across her exposed skin at the unknown possibilities.

"Good evening, my lady. I am pleased that you decided to accept my invitation." His eyes were once again on hers. Those clear, not quite blue, not quite green eyes of his. She wanted to just stare into them, watching the two colors dance as long as she could.

She pulled a haughty expression, managing to glance down her nose at him by tilting her head, "A bidding from an Earl is hardly an invitation, my lord." Her lips were pressed into a tight line to keep them from smiling.

Derek chuckled, dropping to his knee before her. "As the daughter of one of England's most powerful Duke's, your status is above mine, my lady. 'Tis I who must make your simplest whim my most heartfelt priority." He took her hand, placing a courtly kiss upon her knuckles, before gazing up at her.

Arianna could not help but laugh at the expression he presented her. He was an accomplished flirt, that was simply a fact. His expression implied that he awaited her next words, his face ready to fall should she be displeased. She tried to recapture her haughty expression.

"A titled Lord outranks all women, save royalty, my lord, as you well know." He shook his head at her words, he brought his free hand to his chest, as if she had wounded him with them. A smile broke her expression, the corners of her bowed lips curved upwards.

"Are you not all but royalty, my lady? If there were a current prince regent of marriageable age, would your name not be at the top of his list of perspective brides?"

Her smile grew, "Aye, it would be, but then a prince regent cannot marry an Earl, now can he? That does not prove that I outrank you."

"Nay, my lady, he could not. But would a princess accept a suit from a lowly Earl?"

She laughed and replied, "Nay, my lord, only a prince or duke would do."

"Then how can you claim that it is I who outrank you, my lady?"

Arianna shook her head, but her smile was bright. Though they both knew that it was untrue, but he did make a very solid case for his outlandish claim. "Aye, I concede your point, my lord. Shall I, all but royalty that I am, knight you now? Or will you rise and dine with me first?"

"Whatever pleases my lady."

There was something different in his eyes now. All humor from moments before, had fled, his gaze was now intensely serious. Arianna felt her face flush. But the heat did not stop there, it spread across and through her being, warming even the blood that ran through her veins.

"It would please me to dine with you, my lord."

*************

Alejandro watched as the two crewmen tossed Jonathan Hensley's body over the railing and into the sea below. He assumed that he had fulfilled his promise... The sharks would feed on Hensley after all.

He had chosen two of the other men who had signed on in St. Thomas to carry out the chore of disposing of the body, while the other four were scrubbing the brig. Let them learn now, that though their captain was no tyrant, punishment would be awarded to those who earned it. The two men turned to him, grim expressions upon their faces.

Alejandro glanced around at the rest of the crew. Some were keeping busy with mundane everyday chores, even though none had been assigned this day. Others played dice in a corner, but most simply hung around, watching the dead be disposed of. All wore grim expressions that matched the two waiting for further instruction.

"Bring up a keg of rum, men. Tonight we celebrate the lives of our doctor and fellow man, Harry George." Alejandro instructed, his tone once again its controlled and friendly norm.

"Aye, aye, sir." The crew chanted as a few ran for the storerooms to fetch the keg.

Alejandro made his way to the kitchens for his own meal while he awaited his captain and the lady. He wondered how the lady fared. It had not been an easy thing that she had been witness to and in a sense, a part of today. She had stood strong through the ordeal though, and she had never once asked them to spare the man, as he had thought she would. It had been his main concern with allowing her to be present, much less taking the speaking role of the interrogation.

She had not done it as he would have, but it had truly been his own fault that they had received no more answers. Alejandro felt he had let the lady down.

It was a feeling he was used to, letting people down. The sting in the soul never lessened, not for him at least. His Spanish blood made him a passionate man, his father's teachings made him a loyal one. Exactly as when he had let down his own family twice, once as a child, once as a man, his betrayal to Arianna stung just as deep. However, there was one advantage in this situation, adverse to the other two. The offended party was still alive to make amends to.

*******

Derek and Arianna had dined upon an excellent fish stew with wine, tack and salted butter. The conversation had been light, Derek had been a perfect gentleman and excellent company. Arianna finished her third glass of wine, pushed it away, declining more when Derek reached to refill her glass. He smiled, stood from his chair, moving around the table to help her from hers.

"Come, let us join Alejandro and we shall discuss our options."

Arianna nodded, allowing him to lead her above deck. The crew were once again dispersed around the deck in small groups. Some played dice, others had cards, but all held mugs and drank from them freely. Arianna glanced around and spotted the keg the men were filling their mugs from. They were drinking rum.

"I thought you said you only brought the rum out on special occasions." She had to lift her voice to be heard over the crew's merry making, even though her hand was tucked into his arm.

"Aye," he called down to her as he moved her towards the stern of the ship, "and we do. Tonight they are celebrating the lives of those we have lost."

"How... odd." She was not sure he had heard her, as he did not reply, but she kept in step until they reached the stairs leading to the helm. She dropped her hand from his arm, to lift her skirts, proceeding him up the stairs.

Alejandro was waiting for them, a mug in his hand. Two more mugs waited on the chart table. Derek led her to them, with a hand on the small of her back, and they each picked one up.

Derek turned to face his crew, lifting his mug high. All activity quieted, as the men gave their captain their attention. Derek called out to them in a voice that was loud and clear. "Tonight we drink to Shaw, crazy old witch that she was."

The crew stomped in unison, resembling soldiers in their unity, then they spilled from their mugs upon the deck at their feet before taking a drink.

Arianna glanced to the men next to her, seeing that they were in unison with the crew, she copied the ritual.

Derek lifted his mug and his voice once again, "And to Harry George, the quiet bugger that he was."

Once again the crew stomped, spilled from their mugs, then drank with their captain and first mate. Arianna was with them this time, though she still did not understand.

"May their souls find peace, and may their murderer rot in hell!"

Cries of her agreeance sounded from the crew this time preceding the stomp, spill, drink routine. And then the men went back to the activities they had been engaged in previously.

Arianna turned to Derek and asked why the crew had behaved so. He smiled at her and said, "They stomp to alert the dead, spill their drinks for them and then drink to them." He shrugged, "It is the way we show respect."

"Where did this tradition come from?"

"I know not, my lady. It has been customary since the crew has been together though."

Arianna nodded, as she had no more questions and did not know how to respond to that. Alejandro set his mug down loudly and looked pointedly at Derek.

"Aye, my friend, you are right. It is time." Derek replied to Alejandro's stare, before he turned to Arianna.

"We need to discuss what to do about this threat to you, Arianna."

"Aye, but what can we do?" Arianna felt a helpless weight settle on her chest. This threat could take the form of anyone.

It was Alejandro who spoke next. "I failed you today, Señorita. I apologize for that, but please, do not lose heart now. We shall see you safe, that is a promise."

Derek nodded, seconding his first mate's words. "Aye, love. You will be safe with us."

"What did he mean 'his lordship placed a price on your head'?' I understand that someone is willing to pay to have me kidnapped, but who could his lordship be? And what does he want from me?" Arianna sank onto a barrel, she was not sure her knees would hold her through this discussion.

"That we do not know, love. However, we do know that they are looking for Lady Arianna Kent." There was a twinkle in Derek's eye but Arianna knew not how to read it.

She glanced to Alejandro, hoping for a clue, but his expression, as he stared at his captain, mirrored the confusion she felt. Slowly understanding dawned in the Spaniard's face. A smile broke his lips as he looked to her.

"My captain is suggesting that we make you someone else."

Arianna's brows drew together in a confused frown, perhaps the Spaniard is as daft as his captain.

Derek laughed and pulled her from the barrel by one hand, he drew her hand over her head and spun her before him. "My lady, you attempted to disguise yourself once by claiming to be a widow, correct?"

"Aye." She snapped, as she pulled her hand from his and settled back on her barrel.

"Maybe," Derek continued, ignoring the tone of her reply, "if we disguise you as a cabin boy, no one will be able to find Lady Arianna Kent."

She simply stared at him for a moment, attempting to decide if he were truly daft, or perfectly brilliant.

"And just how are we to lose a female passenger and gain a cabin boy upon the middle of the Atlantic, captain?"

Alejandro spit out the mouthful of rum he had just taken from his mug and began to laugh. Derek punched him in the shoulder.

"She has a point, captain.  It would be an easy maneuver if we put into port, but out here upon the waves?" He shook his dark head at Derek, not seeing the possibilities.

"We do not need to gain a cabin boy, simply lose a lady. We have almost a dozen cabin boys, Alejandro, who will notice one more?"

"Alright, but how do we lose a lady without actually losing the lady?" This was from Arianna.

" I believe one of your dresses will do the trick, love." Derek's eyes dropped to the current dress she was wearing, they seemed to brighten under the lantern light burning a cerulean fire.

"My dresses? But I only have three, my lord." She was thoroughly confused.

"You won't be needing them anymore."