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

Chapter Sixteen

The next morning Arianna stood in her cabin debating her reflection in the mirror. The clothes Alejandro had brought her fit fine, the boys breeches were snug across her hips, the billowing button up shirt was loose enough to hide her bound breasts. She turned to the side taking in the costume from a different angle. Her derriere may prove to be a problem. She had always hated her backside.

Many women at home padded their skirts to enhance this feature, but Arianna had never been one of them. Hers stuck out so far that she did not need to. Of course, no one had ever been so rude as to comment on it, but she had always assumed that everyone else would assume that she did indeed pad it. But in these boy's breeches, there was no denying what she was blessed, or cursed, with.

The fabric of the breeches clung tightly from her waist to mid-thigh before they tapered out slightly, allowing it to flow to the tops of her new boots. There was a hat included as well, and Arianna braided and looped her hair into a tight bun at the top of her head. She lifted the wide floppy hat, adjusting it to cover the twisted braid and her femininely curved brows, before she pinned it in place. Once she was ready, she tossed her least favorite dress over her arm, making her way to Derek's cabin where he and Alejandro awaited her.

She knocked upon the closed door, Alejandro pulled it open and waved her in. Derek stood from his seat as she entered the room.

"Well? What do you think?" Arianna asked with a laugh as she spun about.

"Señorita, you look great. This will work as long as one does not look too closely at your face."

Alejandro was right, Derek noted. She may pass for a boy at first glance. Her facial features were far too delicate and feminine to pass a close inspection, but at the moment, he was more concerned with how she would appear through the looking glass that was always present upon Miser's brigantine.

" Aye, your costume is adequate. Now we will need to work on your stride." He watched as confusion crossed her features, drawing her dark winged brows down in the center.

"My stride, my lord?"

"Aye, and your speech too."

"What do you mean, captain?"

Alejandro chuckled from where he stood. "Si, Señorita, have you ever seen the cabin boys cross the deck like this?"

The Spaniard began to move across the cabin with his nose high in the air. His lips were pursed into a straight haughty line, one arm was raised at his side, the wrist was limp. His hips swayed in an exaggerated rhythm, he crossed one foot over the other as he walked.

Derek began to laugh and Alejandro did too, just before he tripped over his own feet landing hard against the washstand. The full basin atop the stand spun, teetering before it fell from the stand to land upon Alejandro's head. He gasped in fresh air, as the now cold water soaked him.

Derek's laughter multiplied by tenfold. His head was thrown back and he clutched a hand to his stomach as if his mirth pained him. Arianna joined in the laughter as Alejandro removed the basin from his head and righted himself to his feet.

"Surely I do not comport myself that atrociously."

Alejandro smiled at her and shook his wet head, sending droplets of water about the room. "Nay, lady, you do so with much more elegance and grace."

Derek finally managed to contain his laughter and wiped tears from the corners of his eyes.

"So, should I walk more like this?" Arianna crossed the room to the table as quickly as possible. Her strides were longer than normal and her feet were more spread apart.

Derek smiled, "That is much better, Arianna. Now try it again without the perfect posture."

She did so and both men nodded to each other.

"Good, just try to remember to do so at all times. Can you perhaps attempt a cockney accent?"

"Aye, gov'na, what can I do fer ya?"

Derek chuckled, "That shall do. So, we have gained a cabin boy. Now it is time to lose a lady."

Derek took the dress from her and lifted the sack of potatoes from behind his chair. He slipped the potatoes into the dress and used the ties to secure the potatoes inside of it. He folded the dress up around itself and tucked it under his arm. "Are you ready, my lady?"

"What exactly is the plan, captain?"

"When we go on deck I will have you scream as we push our 'lady' here," he lifted the weighted dress slightly, "overboard. Alejandro will attempt a daring rescue, but be unable to recover the quickly sinking 'lady.'"

"Aye, captain, I am ready then."

*******

Admiral Miser was upon his deck, a quarter mile off of the Green Eyed Lady's starboard bow, when he heard the feminine scream. He turned, raising his looking glass just in time to see skirts falling and splash into the water. In the next moment, a tall dark haired man dove from the ship after the woman overboard and the Lady swung about.

"Bring the ship around!" He ordered as he tried to spot the heads in the water. The dark haired man surfaced and then dove back under the waves. The brigantine below the Admiral turned upon the waves and circled around the Green Eyed Lady.

They had dropped a rope ladder, the dark haired man was in the process of hauling himself out of the cold Atlantic up to the ship's deck. Alone.

Miser yelled out to the other ship. "Trouble, boys?"

A dark haired man, he presumed to be their captain, stood on the railing at the top of the ladder. He looked up, but did not answer, until he had pulled the dark haired man over the railing.

"Aye, we lost a passenger."

"We noticed. Were you not able to retrieve them?"

"Nay," Derek yelled across the waves to the other ship. "The lady's skirts pulled her too far under."

"A lady, you say?"

"Aye, a Lady Kent."

"Lady Arianna Kent?" Miser's tone was incredulous.

"Aye. Did you know her?"

"Aye, I suppose you could say that. Her father sent me to return her to him."

"Well, please extend my apologies to her father." He turned, but Miser's words stopped him before he jumped from the railing.

"And whose apologies would those be, sir?"

Derek turned back to him, "I am Derek Drake, the ninth Earl of Trent."