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

Chapter Twenty Four

Whitmore watched as the shiny boots stopped before him. It wasn't just one set as he had thought. No, there were five shiny boots before him.. and one wooden peg.

Above the footwear, all three men wore the white breeches of the Royal Navy, the two on the outside, including the peg legged man, wore the red coats of the officers. The red coat who was still in possession of both of his feet carried the lantern. The Admiral was not in the standard red coat with its gold braided cord. No, he was proudly wearing a long tailed, royal blue jacket, heavily decorated with medals across his chest. Silver braided cord trimmed the jacket, fringed shoulder caps capped the look in the same silver. His lapels were white, trimmed in the silver as well. The Admiral's hair was powdered white beneath his large black tricorn, lending emphasis to his dark brows and even darker eyes.

Whitmore let his head fall. What was the use in fighting? He was an old man, what fight could he give them?

"Cut him loose." The Admiral's words were soft, almost as if they were shadowed with pity.

Whitmore knew better.

Peggy moved behind him and cut the rope at his wrists and ankles, he helped him to sit upon the bench in the cell. Whitmore began to rub his wrists in an attempt to get the feeling back in his shaky fingers.

Miser moved to rest against the hinges of the open iron gate. His left foot crossed over his right as he allowed the sturdy metal to support his weight.

"There is a decision you must make now, Whitmore. You know enough to make an educated guess about what I want from you. So, before I reveal any fine details, you must decide. Are we to be friends or enemies?"

Gage Spencer, the tenth Viscount Whitmore, felt the last of his hope slip away from him. No matter his answer now, he knew it was only a matter of time, before he was a dead man.

*****

Derek caught up with Alejandro and Arianna, just before they entered the kitchens, steering them both into an unused cabin. Alejandro did not have some smart comment for him, not enough of his usual arrogant demeanor that he liked to blame on his ancestors, was present. Derek wondered what had his friend so down, but then he probably already knew. Alejandro carried a lot of pain around with him.

Derek knew all of Alejandro's past and did not envy the man his burdens.

Arianna was once again dressed in her cabin boy persona but even she was not her usual self. She was pensive and quiet. Her eyes met his but there was no shine to them. Derek drew in a deep breath, perhaps it was better that both of their moods were already serious.

"I checked the log book from last night. The Avenger pulled away around the first hour, sailing south."

Alejandro nodded. "Aye, 'tis glad I am to see him gone. Perhaps we can resurrect Lady Kent now."

Derek shook his head, "I thought the same until Viscount Whitmore was reported missing."

"Missing? How does one go missing in the middle of the ocean?" Arianna was looking at him with that eyebrow raised once again. He was not exactly able to see it, as she had pinned her oversized hat low over her brow and around her nape, but he sensed its skeptical tilt just the same.

"There are many ways for one to go missing on a ship. You have done it yourself, my lady. The question is, why does one go missing on a ship."

"Or, at whose hand does one go missing upon a ship." Alejandro added.
Derek nodded, "Aye, and does our friend, the Admiral, pulling away the same night, have anything to do with one's missing state upon a ship."

"Well, do we have any answers to those questions?" Arianna inquired, irritated with their sing song badgering.

"Nay," Derek replied, his tone once more serious. "Because the crew was too busy watching for a certain lady's ghost to notice much of anything last night."
Arianna rolled her eyes. "Well, gentlemen, if this is all my fault then please allow me to return to my duties so that I am not able to mess anything else up."

Alejandro laughed, "It is not your fault, Ari." The abbreviation rolled off of his accented tongue. "But run along anyway. I shall inform you should we learn anything. Captain, we should go inspect his cabin."

Derek shook his head. "He was last known to be on deck for his late night smoke. He never returned to his cabin."

"Then let us search the deck. There has to be some sign of something."

"Aye." Derek and Alejandro left the empty cabin, making their way above deck, leaving Arianna to go about her duties as a cabin boy.

*****

Frank Miser watched the old man before him, wishing the Viscount had some fight in him. It always made things more fun when a man attempted to hide his secrets. He watched as Whitmore's head and shoulders slumped in defeat. He watched as the last spark of life, of spirit, fled from the old wrinkled eyes.

"I choose allies, Admiral. I have not the strength to stand before your whip."
Frank had known he would, after all, who would not rather die in comfort?

"Alright, Whitmore. Let us bring you to my quarters and give you something to break your fast. Once you have eaten, we will have our chat."

The two officers helped him to stand and supported him on the climb above deck.

******

Arianna was in the kitchens breaking her fast with the other cabin boys. The boys were all chattering about the previous night’s ghost sighting.

"What'ch'a think, Rian?" Jesse, the oldest and largest of the cabin boys, asked.

"'Bout w'at, Jesse?"

"'Bout the dead lady walkin' the deck last night."

Arianna took a sip of her strong black coffee. "I dunno that I believe in no ghosts, Jesse."

"Is you callin' the crewmen, an' that sweet Miss Bridger girl, liars then?"

Arianna shook her head. "Naw, I ain't sayin' they's lyin', Jesse. I'm just sayin' I ain't never seen no ghost an' 'til I do, I ain't gonna believe in 'em."

"Aw, Jesse, leave the kid 'lone. Ya know his knees'll be knockin' the same as anybody else's on deck after dark. If'n it makes 'im feel better ter say 'e don't believe in 'em, let 'im." Mickey joined the conversation steering it away from Arianna. He truly had been a godsend to her charade.

"Well, I heard the younger 'pencer lad tellin' the cap'n that 'is pa, the lord, was missin'." Joey, one of the younger boys, put in.

"Ya think the ghost lady kilt 'im, Joey?" Jesse asked, his attention completely gone from Arianna.

"I didna say that, Jesse. I dunno who done it."

"Well, I bet she did. What's that sayin'? A woman scorned an' all." Jesse shot back at Joey.

"I don't think she was scorned, Jesse." Mickey said, biting into a buttered biscuit. Crumbs lined the corners of his mouth as he chewed it.

"A'course she was. W'all saw the cap'n. Wasn't even a full day 'fore 'e had a new bit o' fluff hangin' off 'is arm. 'N she's pro'ably mad cause she's dead, too." Jesse laughed at his own reasoning.

"What would the lady want wit' the ol' lord anyway?"

"Who knows what ladies think, Mickey?"

"I still don't think she done it."

Arianna swallowed down the rest of her breakfast, taking the last few gulps of her coffee. She stood from the table, wiping the crumbs from her hands across her breeches.

"What's on our list today, Mickey?"

"We got cleanin' duty. Were 'sposed ta start in the guest cabins."

"Let's get to it then."

Mickey grumbled under his breath as he scooped up the rest of his breakfast on his fork, but the complaining quit as he popped the bite into his mouth. They picked up their dishes and deposited them in the soaking bin on their way out of the kitchens. Mickey stopped in the linen closet and grabbed a stack of fresh bedding. He shoved the stack into Arianna's arms and fetched a bucket of clean water.

"We can start in the doctor's cabin and then move on down the hallway."

"Alright." Arianna replied as she followed him through the hallways to reach the guest cabins.

Mickey finally stopped in front of a door and knocked softly. When no answer came, he pulled a key from his pocket and let them in. They quickly stripped the used bed linens and pillow coverings, replacing them with new ones. Mickey then walked to the corner and lifted the chamber pot by its handle, he nodded to the basin upon the washstand.

"Empty the ol' water out the porthole. Then wipe down the washstand and fill the basin with that fresh water I brung."

Arianna nodded, and Mickey moved out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. Arianna moved to the porthole and looked out upon the waves. She wondered what direction this cabin faced. She had learned a lot about naming direction over the last few months and she did just fine when she was up on deck. But down here below deck, without the sun to judge by, she lost her bearings rather quickly.

Arianna unlocked the latch, swinging the thick, circular glass pane out upon its hinges. She was thankful once again, for her freedom of mobility in the boy's clothes, as she climbed up on the window seat on her knees and leaned through the open porthole. The middle of her thighs rested against the wooden ledge and her hand clung to the open pane as she leaned out. The wind whipping about the ship kissed her face and played with her hat, testing the pins that held it in place.

Arianna closed her eyes, breathing deeply of the fresh salty air. She lifted her free hand atop her head and held her hat secure. Opening her eyes, she first saw the storm clouds that were building on the horizon. They varied so severely from the blue skies above her, but they gave reason for the wind that had built, since she had left Alejandro's cabin and broken her fast. She glanced around, spotted the sun, and concluded that this side of the ship faced north, therefore she was on the starboard side of the vessel.

Something touched her raised elbow and Arianna started. A squeak passed her lips as her hand slipped from the window pane. She heard the cabin door open and Mickey yell out behind her as she tumbled from the porthole towards the waves below.

******

Whitmore ate heartily upon the stuffed quail, greens, and spud cakes that had been set before him. He sat at the table in the Admirals quarters with a man named Thomas Bell across from him. The Admiral was not present, no other soul was.

The American across from him continued to fill the wine glasses every time he emptied his own, despite the fact that Whitmore had barely even lifted his. Soon, Whitmore found himself taking long swallows from the glass, just to keep it from overflowing.

"So," The American finally broke the silence in the cabin, "The Admiral wants to know about the island. What happens to it now that the Lady is dead?"

"It should, essentially, revert back to her father as her closest living kin. I do not see why I was abducted for such trivial information."

Thomas truly didn't either. This was probably just another of the Admiral's ideas that had not been thought fully through. But it was not Thomas's place to question the why's about the tasks that brought in gold much faster than the king's pay.

"Is the lady truly dead, Whitmore? Or is Trent hiding her?"

Whitmore thought over that as the possibility had not occurred to him before. "If the lady is still alive, I was not privy to that knowledge. Although I could swear that my last memory of last eve was seeing her ghostlike form."

Thomas sat forward in his chair, his eyes boring into Whitmore's. "The lady in the white gown with the flowing black hair? She was Lady Kent?"

"Aye, you saw her as well?"

"Aye, and 'twas no ghost I saw either. If you will excuse me, I must inform the Admiral that the lady is still alive." Mr. Bell was on his feet and moving to the door. "Please be so kind as to await me here." Thomas chuckled as he retrieved a key from his pocket. The door shut behind him and Whitmore heard the lock click.

Lady Kent was alive?

*****

Arianna clung to the rope that had startled her with both arms and legs in the tightest grip she could manage. She hung on the outside of the ship, ten feet below the porthole she had fallen from, and she was a couple of feet below the highest splash line the waves had left against the hull. Mickey's head appeared through the porthole above her.

"Are you alright?" The boy called down.

Was she alright? Was she alright!?

No, she was not bloody alright! Arianna bumped into the hull as a swell rose, wetting her from the midriff down. The cold water sparked her panic and she screamed out to Mickey above.

"Get help, Mickey. Hurry!"