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

Chapter Fifty Four

Alejandro's mouth fell slightly open when he saw the Duchess step back onto deck, with his cat-o-nine bloodied in her hand, late in the evening. Her chin was high, her posture regal, and her queen-like aura set the bloodied whip far out of place. Her dainty hand should have held an exquisite hand painted fan, or fine china tea cup, or even a parasol, rather than the deadly whip.

The Duchess' eyes found his across the deck, Alejandro instantly straightened to attention, as if the King himself stood before him. A small smile touched one corner of the Duchess' mouth as she crossed the deck to him.

"I believe this is yours." She stated simply, as she held the cat out to him. Alejandro watched a droplet of blood form at the end of one tail and fall to the deck before he reached out and retrieved the whip by the handle.

"My thanks for returning it, your grace. I assume she served you well?" Alejandro smiled, indicating the whip's bloody state to clarify his question.

"Oh, aye." The Duchess grinned. "She served me beautifully." The Duchess then glanced about the deck. "Might you know my daughter's location, kind sir?"
Alejandro's smile broadened into a sly grin. "Aye, your grace, I might. I believe she is in the captain's cabin."

The Duchess raised a brow. "My, that did not take long."

Alejandro laughed heartily.

Brow still raised, the Duchess eyed the Spaniard from his head, to the toes of his boots, and back again before she asked, "Should I intervene?"

Alejandro thought a moment. "Nay, your grace. I believe those two would benefit from some time alone."

"Would you swear for your captain's honor, Spaniard?"

'Twas Alejandro's turn to lift a brow. "Your grace, my captain had open opportunity to disgrace your daughter for nigh on a month, before she was abducted in New York. He took a bullet in the shoulder attempting to stop her abduction. And only three days after that, he insisted we come for her." Alejandro shrugged, relaxing against the railing once more. "I believe my captain's honor speaks for itself."

A smile lit the Duchess' face. "I believe I like you."

Alejandro sent her a flirtatious look. "Most women do."

The Duchess laughed. "Easy, young man, I know your wife."

Alejandro shook his head, an unconcerned expression on his face. He glanced out at the waves, but his voice remained audible. "I have no fear, your grace. I have been a faithful man since my vows were spoken years ago."

"Truly?" The Duchess asked.

"Aye." He stated, his eyes making direct contact with hers.

"Hmm.. I was not sure such men still existed. My husband had better be able to say the same thing." There was a teasing ring to the Duchess' voice.

"If the man has an ounce of sense about him, I'm sure he will. I have only spoken with you a few moments and I already fear should you ever be angry with me."

A smile lit the Duchess face once more. "What might this ship be able to offer as a libation?"

*****

Arianna sat across the table from Derek in the captain's cabin, glass of wine in hand, her mind still reeling from all that Derek had just told her. He had told her of his obsession with finding Bailey, and the reason behind it.

An old flame.

He had told her that, roughly eight years ago, he had met a lovely woman. He had been preparing to offer for her when Bailey had preyed upon her. She had been his seventh victim.

On one hand, Arianna wanted to weigh her relationship with this man under this new weight. But on the other, she was absorbed with horror for the girl. She had heard that Bailey's victims had been raped and brutally beaten to death by the man's bare hands. She may not have personally experienced such treatment, but she had seen the size of Bailey's hands. She could only imagine the crushing weight they would deliver if swung with force behind them.

Arianna shook herself from such thoughts, turning her attention back to Derek. He seemed to be waiting patiently, allowing her time to sort through what he had told her. Arianna's eyes dropped to the wine in her glass, as she tipped the glass slightly, setting the almost purple liquid to swirling about the glass.

This whole time he had been about a task to avenge a dead woman, he had loved.... No, he had not said that. He had not said that he had loved this Lady Jolene Huntington, only that he had prepared to offer for her. Arianna took a sip of her wine, mentally bracing herself for the question she was about to ask. She needed to know the answer, her heart screamed for it. But her mind wanted to dismiss the thought entirely. Her heart won out, of course.

"Did you love her?"

Derek's eyes had not left Arianna's face for one moment, since he had finished telling her his tale. The play of emotions across her features captivated him. He could see her heartbeat increase in the hollow of her throat, as he let her question hang in the air between them.

"I have given that question a lot of thought lately, and believe I have finally come to an answer."

Arianna waited for him to continue.

"I have come to realize that I hardly even knew her, so I could not possibly have truly loved her. I believe I loved the idea of her, if you will, but I also knew nothing of love then."

"And you do now?" Arianna asked, pleased with his answer, hoping against all odds that he would confess to being in love with her. 'Twould make the feelings she harboured that much easier to bare.

"Aye, for I have found a beautiful woman and am honored that her hand is promised to me."

Arianna felt her heart sink. How could she have forgotten that he was betrothed? Or that she was too, for that matter? If she was going back to England, then she would be expected to honor the betrothal her father had committed her to. The past four months had been entirely useless, she realized. For she knew, that if she were to break the betrothal after her unescorted 'vacation', assuming they were able to play it off that way, it would be the end of any reputation she still had.

A knock upon the cabin door stole both of their attention, saving Arianna from having to formulate a reply. Just then, a cannon boomed below them.

Derek cursed as he made for the door, crossing the cabin in three long strides. Arianna following in his wake.

Mickey, the cabin boy who had been Arianna's ally when she had been in disguise, stood outside of the door.

"Cap'n you better come see this." Mickey stated, a frown marring his brow. His eyes never turned her way. Why was the boy angry with her?

"Are we under attack, Mickey? I've heard no bells sounded." Derek frowned back at the boy.

"Nay, Cap'n. You'd better come wit' me." Mickey turned, leading them up on deck, then down a set of steep stairs into the bottom gun decks.

As they drew close, they could hear laughter, masculine and feminine. Arianna cocked her head, as she followed Derek around the edge of the room, towards the sounds of laughter.

"Are you ready, your grace?" Was that Alejandro's voice?

"Yup." The Duchess slurred.

A moment later the cannon sounded again. Arianna jumped in her skin and covered her ears until all was quiet again.

Derek continued moving until they could see Alejandro and the Duchess, who were standing behind the still smoking cannon, handing a bottle of brandy back and forth.

"Alejandro." Derek called, his first mate raised red rimmed eyes to his captain.

"Aye, sir." Alejandro leaned at attention.

"There are children aboard. No more cannons."

Alejandro looked sheepishly at the Duchess.

The Duchess stepped forward, not so gracefully, "'Twas my doing, your lord." She hiccupped. "'Twas I who wanted to shoot off the cannons." She hiccupped again and shrugged. "I'd always wanted to shoot off a cannon."

Derek laughed. "Your grace, I shall let you exhaust my supply of cannon balls, if it pleases you, but could you please do so during daylight hours when the children can be warned? I am sure you have frightened them all."

It was the Duchess' turn to look sheepish. "Aye. You have a point, boy." Her attention swiveled back to Alejandro. Laughter erupted from the both of them once again. Arianna joined their laughter.

"Mother, let me see you to bed." She smiled, stepping close and slipping a supporting arm about the Duchess' waist.

"Aye, that sounds nice, daughter. Goodnight, gentlemen."

"Goodnight." Derek and Alejandro echoed.

*****

Derek took over the helm of the Lady, as the winds from the approaching storm, bested even Alejandro's practiced hands. The sea began to rise around them in tall, choppy swells that would come rolling in, crashing against the ship. For now, most of the waves were barely sending up enough spray to wet the sailors, who were busy manning the sails, following Derek's constant shouting of orders.

A thunderclap rent the air, sending a shiver of energy through his veins, as the giant storm cloud finally covered the sky directly above them. The crew sent up cries of appreciation at the storm's might, as they labored against it's forces. Fat drops of cold rain fell through the still warm air to wet their skin, the sails, the deck. Derek felt the wheel tug and pull at his hands. He felt every movement of the ship, and the waves she rode, in the spokes that flew through his hands first one way, then the other, as he battled the winds and the waves.

Lighting struck a fair distance away, deeper under the cloud cover. Derek ordered that the flag be brought down, the sails trimmed, lines tightened, others loosened. His crew took command from their captain like a well oiled machine, and as a result, the Lady rode the rough seas as smoothly as possible. The rise and fall as they rode the waves could not be avoided, but the ship did not lurch violently risking any man's footing.

As the storm pulled them deeper into it's fury, another roar of thunder sounded, it's boom strong enough to reverberate through Derek's chest. Derek himself sent up a cry of pure exhilaration as the storm tested him and his seasoned sailors.

As soon as the thought was gone, a bolt of lightning touched the waves, close enough to the ship that Derek saw the otherwise black water light with electricity. If such a bolt struck a sail, they ran the risk of fire. If such a bolt hit a mast, say the main mast, controlling the Lady would become a struggle of life and death. The waves were growing taller, water now splashed onto the deck, sometimes knee high upon a sailor. A few of the younger men stripped their boots and shirts, tossing them down the hatch. The more weathered sailors laughed at them, poking fun, and telling them they had cursed themselves by taking precautions against being swept overboard. Derek chuckled as he guided the ship down one side of a swell and rode the next at a slight angle. He barked another list of orders and the men quieted as they followed his instructions.

Another clap of thunder shook the entire ship and almost simultaneously a bolt of lightning struck just off the port bow. The strike was so close, Derek could smell the burnt salt that rose in the steam off of the waves. No crewman was joking any longer.

"Captain!" Alejandro's voice gained Derek's attention.

His first mate pointed above him and Derek's gaze lifted to the rigging. A support line was frayed. Derek barked orders, to see it loosened, and replaced, if possible. The line would not be a danger were it not in place, necessarily, but it would put many at risk were it to snap.

Before his crewmen could reach the pulley to loosen the frayed line, Derek heard a child cry. His horrified gaze searched the deck.

"Roman!" Alejandro screamed, breaking into a run across the deck, but large cargo boxes blocked his path. Derek's gaze fell upon the other side of the cargo boxes and he saw Roman standing in his night shirt, a hand sewn stuffed animal tucked under his arm.

"Alejandro! Get the helm!" Derek yelled above the roar of the wind and waves, his first mate used the handrails of the steep stairs to get to the helm in three strides. Derek moved himself to the far side of the wheel as Alejandro crossed the space from the stairs. The moment Alejandro's fingers touch the wheel, Derek's slipped as he moved to leap the railing. Just before his feet left the deck, a loud snap sounded above him. The frayed line audibly unwound from it's pulley and the loose line swung across the deck, drawing three crewmen overboard as it snapped out, over the side of the ship.

The line continued to wave through the air, like a deadly anaconda from the amazon, and as the sea welcomed the cable into it's depths, the slack loosened and the snake like line shortened. Derek finally propelled himself over the railing and landed on his feet on the deck below.

Two yards separated him from Roman.
And yet, the cable beat him to the boy, it fell free of it's holdings to puddle over and around Roman, one end mercilessly tightening the tangle over the boy as it was being pulled into the sea. The boy wailed in fright as the line pulled tight around his legs and began to tug against him. His eye's met Derek's as the line won out, stealing the boy's feet out from underneath him.

Derek gave chase as Roman tumbled across the deck, but despite his lunge, the line managed to carry the boy feet first over the railing. As soon as Derek regained his footing he launched himself over the railing after the boy.

The cold ocean water stole the breath from his lungs as he opened his eyes to search the storm darkened depths below him. Where was Roman?

There! He spotted the boy, the line still tightly wound around him and his stuffed animal, his eyes were full of fear as they met Derek's through the water. Derek swam down towards the boy with all his might, but the distance between them continued to increase. Derek's lungs began to burn, but he pushed himself harder to reach Roman.

Derek knew that it was a lost cause as the air escaped from Roman's mouth and he choked on the water he breathed in. His eyes held pain and terror, until they finally held nothing at all.

A cry tore from Derek's throat, he felt the water rushing in to fill his own lungs as he... sat up in his bunk..... In his cabin. Safe. Still aboard the Lady...

Derek looked down at his sweat covered chest, falling back against his pillows as he realized that twas not water that filled his lungs, but air. Clean dry air. And if he was dry in his bunk, other than the cold sweat that covered his skin, that meant that Roman was, more than likely, safe too. Relief flowed through Derek's veins.

A dream.

Twas only a dream.