Chapter Fifty Seven

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Thomas Bell was roughly awoken when the ship pitched and he was thrown from his bunk. He scrambled to his feet and jerked on his breeches before he moved to the porthole. Lightning struck under the heavy clouds, illuminating a water spout that rose from the sea to the heavens. He stood frozen, staring out the porthole, for moments longer than was necessary, simply in awe of the tempest raging without. He knew the Lady had a full, experienced crew, but he also knew that an extra set of hands, an extra bit of weight, was never bothersome in weather such as this.

So he turned and garbed himself appropriately, before leaving his cabin for the deck, to lend whatever assistance he could. For a moment, he thought of Bailey in the brig. Thomas had stopped down earlier in the morning, he had been astonished with the damage the Duchess had inflicted. Bailey's golden, harshly handsome face was no more, in it's place was a blood smeared, raw, open wound. Thomas could see where the cat-o-nine had torn through the mans cheek, exposing the back teeth beneath. Blood still trickled from the clotted wounds as the man spoke.

"Chou musht be pre'ty proud'a yer shelf, hnn, American?"

Thomas had not dignified him with a response. There was no sense in allowing a prisoner to goad him into a temper.

Bailey had spewed threats towards Lady Arianna as Thomas had left. That still confused him. He wondered exactly how Bailey had construed the events of his capture, so that they appeared to be all Arianna's fault.

Thomas shrugged off the thought, as he made the deck, searching out the first mate with his eyes. Even were Bailey not securely locked in the brig, he could do no harm to the Lady aboard this ship, with so many including himself, keeping a watchful eye on her.

The wind and rain hit him like steel as he stepped from the hallway and spotted Alejandro near the bow of the ship. He hastened over, to see where he could be useful.

*****

Alejandro sent Thomas Bell to assist a group of crewman who had started to break pace with the other groups the crew were separated into. An extra man would make all the difference, perhaps they might live through this storm.

In all the years Alejandro had sailed these seas with his captain, they had never came across a storm this severe. Waves rose around the Lady twenty feet high, and the valleys between the waves were death traps when the swells crashed down upon their deck. One man had been swept overboard already, the lines about their waist were the only thing making their recovery possible.

Alejandro glanced to his captain, noticing his gaze was locked in the rigging. Alejandro turned his eyes skyward, with a hand blocking the rain, just in time to see lightning strike the main sail. Instantly, a spot of fire rose from the sail, as thunder boomed loud overhead. The thunder was so close, it shook every inch of air, even that within the crewmen's chests.

No shouts of appreciation rose in the air, though a few sets of drawers may have been soiled.

*****

Unaware of the dangerous situation above, Arianna shook off the chill the boom of thunder had spread across her skin, as Mickey worked on the lock for the drawers of Derek's desk. She had searched every available nook and cranny of the cabin and had turned up nothing. The contract had to be concealed in the drawers.

"I just 'bout got it." Mickey breathed, his tounge sticking from the corner of his mouth.

An audible click was heard, and as the ship pitched on the waves, the drawers slid open. One drawer was full of quills and ink, the other was a deeper drawer and 'twas full of logbooks and loose papers. Arianna drew the first few inches of paperwork from the drawer, and started sorting through them. She drew another stack of papers and books out when the first stack failed to yield the betrothal contract she was looking for.

This time, she did find it, towards the bottom of the stack she sorted through. Arianna's jaw dropped as she flipped through the papers bearing the seals of her father and the Marquess of Moonhurst.

She was betrothed to Derek?

*****

Derek was becoming increasingly concerned. The crew had managed, with the help of the rain, to put out the fire in the main sails by closing them tight, letting the rain soaked canvas all but extinguish it's self. However, they were left at the mercy of the sea without the sail. And Derek had never known the sea to be merciful.

He drew a heavy, wet breath as he squinted to take in the horizon around them. 'Twould do no good to be caught in a waterspout, and a chain of islands lined their other side. After a moment of indecision, Derek took the ship closer to the islands. As the ocean depths diminished below them, the waves rocked the ship much more gently, Derek exhaled a sigh of relief. He shook out first one hand, then the other, as he realized that they had cramped from the tight hold he kept upon the helm.

"Reef!" Someone yelled out, and Derek felt a cold sweat cover his brow, as he tried to turn the ship back out to sea. There was no time for evasion however, as the ship lurched to a standstill. A yell tore Derek's attention to the bow, as Alejandro fought for footing, and fell overboard.

"No!" Derek screamed, watching the spot where Alejandro had stood only seconds before knowing his first mate had never taken to tying himself off during a storm. Thomas Bell was at his side, taking the wheel from his hands.

"Go!" The American called over the wind. Derek did not need to be told twice. He broke into a run across the deck, light footed, though the deck pitched below him, the ship teetering on the reef it was caught upon. He ignored the sting of the rain upon his face, as he launched himself over the railing, into the sea, where his first mate had fallen overboard.

The Duke's Daughter -Wattys2014 Collector's Dream Award Winner-Where stories live. Discover now