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

Chapter Twenty Nine

Miser paid the carriage driver after he had taken them to the deserted stretch of beach the Avenger was now anchored off of. The lady was awake, bound, blindfolded, and gagged but still putting up quite a fight. She twisted and kicked until Buckley had had enough.

He dropped her on the rock strewn beach and pressed hard against the back of her head, forcing her bruised face into the rocks, as he screamed at her to quit struggling. Arianna's reaction was not what he desired as the pain in her face and at the back of her head were overwhelming. Her feet whipped around and swept his feet out from underneath him. Buckley fell next to her in the sand.

Buckley lifted a rock, but before he could bring it down on Arianna's head, Miser called out.

"Calm yourself, Buckley. We need her alive."

Buckley looked up at the Admiral with rage burning in his eyes. For a moment, Miser thought that he might disobey and crush her skull anyway. But then the fire in his eyes dimmed and he lowered the rock. Buckley reached down and grabbed Arianna's arm, dragging her the rest of the way to the small row boat that Jamison had rowed to shore.

Buckley shoved her into the boat and let her fall to the floor. Arianna attempted to right herself but her binds made it an impossible chore.

Miser walked down the beach as the carriage drove away. He climbed into the boat and lifted the lady to the seat next to him. He reached for her gag, but paused.

"Just so you know, this spot is quite deserted. 'Tis why I chose it. So I am going to remove your gag, but if you scream, or annoy me with pleas and chatter, you will be knocked unconscious again. Is that clear?"

She neither nodded or shook her head, but Miser saw her jaw set and her nose wrinkle with anger. He feared for his fingers as he pulled away the gag, but she did not try to bite them off.

In fact, she did not do anything. She simply sat there with her jaw set firmly. Miser would have paid to know the thoughts that set her mouth to twisting into an angry frown.

******

At that exact moment, Arianna was deciding to pick her battles. Drowning while blind and bound did not sound pleasant, nor did being punched in her aching head sound appealing either. Her head hurt like she had never felt before. The wound from a week ago was still tender and aggravated her again. From the salty sand stinging the freshly swollen flesh, from her brow to cheekbone on the right side of her face, she knew she must look a sight.

Arianna felt more weak than she had leaning against that privy. The struggle on the beach had drained her of last ounce of energy. She would have to be smarter about when she struck out. She needed to plan an escape.

They reached the ship and Arianna was thrown over a shoulder and carried up the rope ladder. She remained as still as possible as she listened to the waves slapping against the ship's hull below.

They made the deck and Jamison set her on her feet. Miser was quickly climbing the railing behind them. As soon as he stepped onto the deck, he bent and cut the binds at her ankles. Miser pulled her along behind him to a cabin. He cut the binds at her wrists and removed her blindfold.

"Make yourself comfortable, my lady. This shall be your home for a few weeks."

Arianna glanced around the dark space as the door shut, she located a candle and matches before she was plunged into complete darkness. She heard the lock on the door click from the outside as she struck the match.

When the light spread around the small space, she realized she had nothing to occupy her, other than her own thoughts.

*****

Three days had passed.

Three horribly, long days.

She lay in the bunk and stared at the boards above her. She had had no human interaction or exercise, or even seen sunlight these last three days. Two meals, one candle, three matches, and one bucket of water had been delivered to her daily. It was brought by a cabin boy who was closely followed by the crewman who hated her. The one they had called Buckley. The one who had abducted her and almost ended her life on the beach.

She wondered where Derek was and why he had not come for her. She wondered if Betsy would skip off in James Town with her jewels. She would find it hard to blame the girl. After all, Arianna had promised to see her well off in the Americas. It had not been a promise she had thoroughly thought out, but she had intended to keep it, none the less.

Instead of keeping that promise, she sat here, in this cabin, aboard this ship, and from what the cabin boy had said, would be delivered to his lordship soon enough. Arianna sighed heavily, and closed her eyes, willing sleep to enfold her in its numbing embrace once more.

*****

Alejandro turned the crank on the lines that would lift the short boat to the Lady's deck. Derek had awoken this morning clearheaded, though in a foul mood. Alejandro could not blame his captain, with Lady Arianna gone his own mood was not very bright and cheery.

The boat moved vertically to the deck, and with each turn of the crank, Alejandro watched his captain's jaw tighten with the pain his shoulder gave him. Alejandro knew the only thing that kept Derek from ranting and raving was Whitmore's letter tucked in his coat and the information that had come from it.

The old lord was smart. Besides being forced to write the note, he had been able to convey a clear message that the entirety of the written words did not. Certain words were darker than others, and Alejandro had followed the lead to gain more information.

Whitmore's hidden message had led him to Miser's mistress in New York, all Alejandro had had to do was claim the Admiral had sent him and she had welcomed him into her home, and attempted to welcome him into her bed as well. Alejandro had refused, and she had gotten angry. Her anger had unleashed a vicious rant that had revealed the location of his lordship's island. Having the information he came for, Alejandro had let himself out, and returned to Derek with the good news.

They had a destination, and the Lady would make up the three days head start the Admiral's brigantine had on them, within the week.

*****

Arianna awoke late in the afternoon. Or so she assumed. The lack of a porthole in her cabin made it difficult to tell the time. Her assumption was based on the fact that the cabin boy had not delivered the evening meal yet, and her stomach was informing her of her hunger.

She stretched out across the bunk turning her torso first one way and then the other before she rose from the bed. She felt for a match and lit the short candle she had recieved that morning. The wick sparked and crackled, before the flame took hold, and spread down to the wax. Arianna waved the match in the air until it no longer flamed in her hand.

The light gingerly spread across the room, banishing the oppressive darkness, until only shadows remained. Upon the washstand across the cabin, she saw a wrapped parcel and she retrieved it, before returning to her perch on her bunk.

There was a piece of parchment tucked into the twine that held the parcel together. She wiggled the parchment from the ties, without ripping it, and unfolded it to read the inscription inside.

Lady Kent,

Wear this and be ready to dine by the sixth hour.

Admiral Miser.

She did not tarry. She would take every opportunity given to her, to ferret out information from the Admiral about his plans for her. No matter how much she wished not to be in his company. She tore the paper on the parcel and revealed a crimson silk gown.

Holding it out in front of her, Arianna surveyed the gown. The color was beautiful, she would give it that. The material was expensive and smooth. But everything else about the dress was horrid. The neckline was far too low to be acceptable, and there was a slit in the skirt that would reach to mid thigh. The sash that was sewn to the front of the waist was far too wide and would tie into a hideously large bow at the small of her back. It was.. it was a whore's costume.

Arianna tossed the gown across the bunk and stood looking down upon it. She knew the silk would feel much better against her skin then the dirty scratchy cotton gown she wore now, and had worn, since she was abducted. But was it worth it at the cost of her modesty? There were not even undergarments for the dress! And she doubted any would fit under it anyway.

She read the note again and the order grated on her nerves. However, she decided she would play the Admiral's game, until she found an opportunity to turn it to her advantage.

With that conclusion reached, Arianna quickly began to make herself as presentable as the horrid costume would allow.

It was not long before there was a knock on her door and she was escorted to the Admiral's formal dining room. As she stepped over the threshold the first thing she noticed was the immensely large table. Twenty men could dine comfortably along it's lengths, and it looked as if they regularly did. The table bore visible scars and stains even from her position just inside the door. A foul odor of rotten food hung in the air.

Her stomach tightened and pitched, but Arianna stilled her breathing for a moment, and was able to control the impulse to retch. The Admiral was seated at the end of the table, in the large, elaborately decorated, throne-like chair, which contrasted with the other plain chairs that surrounded the table. His place was set, as well as the place directly to his right.

Arianna coughed lightly, and the Admiral lifted his head from the stack of papers he had been absorbed in, and set them aside.

"Ah, Lady Kent. It was wise of you to join me without protest."

Pompous ass. Arianna bristled under his condescending tone. She had dealt with many pompous asses before however, so when she answered him, her voice nearly dripped with sweetness, "It was good of you to invite me, Admiral."

He smiled a crooked sort of smile. One that, should the Earl of Trent send her way, she turned to butter over. But on the Admiral, with his harsh features and upturned nose, it almost resembled a sneer.

"You find your accommodations satisfactory, I presume?"

"Aye, only a porthole would make them more comfortable. Perhaps a bathing tub as well." Arianna answered.

"Come, sit, perhaps we can come to a compromise that might see us both a bit more comfortable."

The small hairs at the back of her neck stood on end in apprehension of what the Admiral might want from her. She pulled the chair back at an angle so that she might only have to scoot one side back under the table.

As soon as she was seated, the Admiral snapped his fingers, and cabin boys began to carry in trays of food. There was enough on the table before them to feed six large men.

"Take what you like, we are not much for convention, so do not play coy. I am sure, after gruel for the last three days, you must be quite hungry."

"Aye." Arianna replied as she reached out and took generous portions of the bland fare before her. She knew there was no way she could finish the full plate that was before her, but she planned to make her best effort. Who knew when the next time she would have the opportunity to would be?

He laughed at her enthusiasm and filled his own plate.

"So," he began, his mouth full of food. It took every ounce of Arianna's self control to keep her nose from wrinkling at his foul manners. "His lordship will be quite pleased once you are delivered to him."

"What are his plans for me?" She asked.
He simply stared at her for a moment before his eyes fell to his plate and he took another bite.

"What harm can there be," she added, "In telling me now? 'Tis not as if I am in any position to stop him from doing as he pleases."

"As he pleases..." Miser repeated the phrase as lust turned his eyes to a shiny black. "I suppose you are correct. Very well."

Miser swallowed before he continued. Arianna was grateful.

"His lordship wants the island that is your dowry. He plans to marry you to get it."

"But I am already betrothed!" Arianna clamped her lips shut lest she anger him.

"Aye, you were. But now that we have you away from Trent, that poses no problems."

"Trent?" Her brow knit in confusion. What did Derek have to do with her being previously betrothed?

"Aye, I assume he will not be pleased with our intrusion into his suit, but 'tis for the best."

What nonsense was he speaking now?

"He will come after me." The words were out of her mouth before the thought had even fully processed.

"Aye, if he lives, he will. But by the time he arrives upon his white charger, you shall be fully wedded and bedded and on your way back to England, and there will not be much he can do."

His words struck cold fear through her. She lifted her fork and slipped it passed her lips, taking a moment to process his statement.

"Trent's ship fairly flies atop the waves, Admiral. May I ask you why you are so sure that he will not rescue me before we reach our destination?"

A smug look crossed his face, "You may. Your lover will not be making an appearance before then, because we are only two weeks out of safe harbor, and the ball I lodged in his chest will take much more time than that to heal. He will more than likely be bedridden for weeks to come."

"You shot him?" Arianna asked with a gasp.

Miser laughed a sinister laugh, "Aye, in the chest. Too high to be instantly fatal, but low enough to do some damage. Your knight in shining armor will not recover quickly."

He continued to drone on, but Arianna no longer listened, as cold fingers of fear closed in painfully around her heart. If what Miser said was true, she had no hope.

"Now about this compromise, my lady."

"Yes?" Her attention once more focused on the evil man next to her.

"You may move your belongings to my cabin and enjoy all the luxuries that this ship can boast of, if.." He trailed off, his eyes gliding down to her overexposed breasts and farther still, past her tiny cinched waist, to her stockinged thigh.
Arianna raised her brow and pursed her lips, silently daring him to say what she suspected he was about to.

"If," his eyes were on hers once more, "you agree to share the quarters with me."

"In what sense of the word share, Admiral?" Her voice was low. If Miser were an intelligent man he would not have thought it husky, but rather would have sensed the anger brewing under the surface of the angelic beauty before him.

"In every sense of the word, my lady."

"Well you see, Admiral..." She smiled seductively as she glanced at him from the corners of her eyes in a coquettish fashion.

He leaned forward in his chair, licking his lips in anticipation of her acceptance to his terms. He wondered how much Trent had taught her..

"Yes?"

"Well you see, Admiral, it would take hell freezing over before I would ever willingly allow you to place a hand..."

She did not finish as she heard him growl. His face brightened to a rosy hue, and he leapt at her from his chair, his hands firmly circling her throat. He applied pressure, and Arianna panicked, as she was unable to draw in air. He stood over her, her chair had slid from the table under his attack.

Her hand fumbled for something to defend herself with upon the table. Her fingers connected with her fork, she did not hesitate to grip it firmly, and swing it at him. The fork lodged firmly, and completely through his cheek, and he released his hold on her to bring his hands to his face.

An animalistic howl of pain tore from his throat and blood began to spill down his face. Arianna reached again for her silverware and this time she held the knife.

He spit a tooth into his hand, and then another. Arianna's stomach flipped again as he pulled the fork out of his cheek.

"Bitch, you will pay for this!" He sneered at her as he lifted a table cloth to his injured cheek. He bellowed at the door, "Bell!!"

The man who had escorted her to the dining room burst through the door and took the scene in quickly. Arianna turned her knife in his direction.

"Easy now, lass." Thomas drawled, his eyes on the knife in her hand. "I am not here to hurt you."

"Damn that bitch!" Miser yelled as he spit out a mouthful of blood, "Tie her to the mast! I demand one hundred lashes."

"Put down the knife, lass." Bell commanded as he trained his pistol at her forehead.

"Nay! Kill me now, for I will not live through a hundred lashes."

Bell's eyes turned to the Admiral but did not lower his weapon. "She has a point, you know."

"Damn you, Bell! That is an order!"

Bell sighed heavily as he slipped his pistol back into his waist band. He took a few steps towards Arianna, and when he was close enough, she lunged at him.

He easily caught her wrist, and applied pressure, causing the knife to fall uselessly upon the floor. He twisted the arm he held until she stood directly before him, her wrist turned up behind her, to rest between her shoulder blades.

Arianna allowed a sob to pass her lips as she was led from the dining room. The pain in her arm was an intense burn, but it was nothing compared to the fear that consumed her.