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

Chapter Fifty Eight

The Duchess stood from the floor of her cabin, it was where she had landed when the ship suddenly lurched to a halt. What had happened? She exited to the hallway, intending to find out, and found her daughter in a similarly confused state...

Just outside the captain's open cabin door.

"Arianna?" The Duchess asked, placing a hand upon her daughter's arm. The lost look, that had haunted Arianna's eyes earlier, was far more pronounced. She knew, the Duchess thought to herself. Arianna simply stared at her mother for a long moment.

"Did you know?" Arianna finally whispered.

"I..." How was she to answer? Her daughter was a hot headed young woman, who had been a virtual stranger a week ago. With a heavy heart, the Duchess answered her daughter truthfully, praying that Arianna would understand it had been Derek's tale to tell. Hoping the truth wouldn't hurt the newfound relationship she and Arianna had forged so far.

"Yes, he told me just this morn." She admitted.

Arianna's lips pursed together, her brow knit and she closed her eyes tight. A single tear slipped from the heavy cover of her lashes as her head shook slightly.

"I.." The doorway across the hall opened and Arianna did not finish the thought. Roman and Carmelita joined them in the hallway.

"Do we know what has happened?" Carmelita asked.

"Nay." The Duchess replied.

Betsy stepped into the hallway from her small cabin, asking a similar question, the Duchess answered again.

"Perhaps we should investigate." Carmelita supplied, her eyes shifting from mother to daughter.

"Aye," Arianna replied, with a heavy sigh. She reached out a hand to rumple Roman's dark hair. "Let us investigate.”

Roman gave her an impish grin, Arianna felt her lips curve into a smile, despite her own churning emotions. The boy reminded her so much of his father. Arianna's eyes lifted to Carmelita's. She wore a proud smile, as if she knew Arianna's thoughts, and there was a happy glow in her eyes that Arianna had not seen previously. A new beauty had transformed the woman in a way that Arianna would never have believed possible.

"What're we waitin' for?" Mickey asked, as he stepped from the captain's cabin.

Arianna glanced past the boy, finding everything she had rumaged through in Derek's cabin, back in it's place, neat and orderly, as if she had never invaded the space. She heard the lock click as Mickey pulled the door closed and Arianna turned her eyes from the boy. She should not have let him help her earlier. If Derek had told her mother, surely that meant that he had intentions of telling her himself. If she would have allowed him to tell her, rather than conduct a search of his cabin....

It finally struck Arianna, they might all be in serious danger. The ship was no longer moving forward, though it rocked from side to side, as if being battered by waves. Her eyes locked onto Betsy's.
"Betsy, my jewels.."

"I'll get them, my lady." Betsy replied. "I have kept them under close watch since New York, I have."

"Thank you, Betsy." Arianna looked around at the rest of the small group. "Shall we?"

Arianna put a hand on Betsy's arm to keep her near for a moment, as the others filed up to the deck. When they had gone, she turned to her maid's questioning look, "Bring the pistols too Betsy, I would feel better having them."

*****

Thomas Bell stood with two senior crewmen, they were organizing the rest of the crew and passengers for evacuation. Water was already filling the lower decks and the rain still poured down on them mercilessly. Their only saving grace, was that the waves were only half the size along this reef, as they had been further out upon the open ocean. There were four small boats available, it had been decided that women and children would be sent first. Next, the male passengers, then the crew would follow.

Twelve loyal crewmen had stripped down to their breeches, and despite the wind and the rain, they dove from the bow of the ship, hoping to comb the relentless waves for their captain and first mate. Thomas was astounded with the crew's loyalty. 'Twas unlike anything he had ever seen before.

As passengers slowly stumbled on deck, they were arranged by the remaining crewmen into the correct boats, and the first boat was lowered into the water.

"Thomas?" He turned, finding Arianna behind him.

"Lady Kent."

"My mother, my maid, Carmelita and Roman are all boarding the second boat. Have all the children been accounted for?"

"Aye," he replied, hearing her unspoken dare. The set of her jaw told him 'twas useless to even suggest that she go with the departing boat. "If you're going to stay on deck you will need to lose the skirts." He sighed, deciding there were two ways to secure her safety.

"Excuse me?" Arianna lifted a brow at him, completely misconstruing his meaning.

"Breeches." Thomas laughed, finding her indignant expression amusing. "Should we be forced to abandon ship you will never survive in those skirts." He chuckled once more, before he grew serious. "It's my one condition, my lady."

"Fine!" Arianna spun on her heel and disappeared below deck.

'Twas Thomas' turn to raise a brow in her direction. He shrugged the thought off. Her mood was not his concern. Only her physical safety was.

*****

The Duchess was extremely grateful to step out of the small rowboat, onto somewhat dry sand. Her skirts were soaked from the terrifying ride in. Waves had seemed to leap from the water into the small craft. As the Duchess shook out her skirts, the two crewman who had rowed them in were tipping the boat on the sand, draining the water that had accumulated in the bottom.

The storm still raged above them, ever increasing in it's onslaught. The Duchess took in the lost faces around her. The mothers had ushered their children up, under the protection of the palms that lined the beach.

Carmelita left Roman in Margaret's care, and made her way back to the surf, to join the Duchess.

"We can't wait for the men to begin finding shelter. The children are soaked through, we will need a fire to warm and dry them."

"Aye." The Duchess replied. "The men will bring supplies and fashion some shelter. In the meantime we can gather wood and brush to build a fire."

Carmelita nodded and returned to the other women and children. 'Twas decided that Margaret and Christina would watch the children, while the rest of the women gathered fallen branches, twigs, and any dry brush they could find with which to build a fire.

*****

Arianna pulled on the old pair of breeches and tucked the loose shirt into the waistband. She glanced in the mirror and debated binding her breasts. Her shift kept them from bouncing with her every movement but their shape was unmistakable.

A thought entered her mind and she glanced at her corset as she thought of Shaw, the eccentric Jamaican doctor who had been murdered. Arianna's eyes flew wide as she remembered Shaw's ominous warning.

"Aye, you're a noble little bit o' baggage. But your secrets will sink this ship. Mark my words girl."

The words seemed to echo in the cabin, as a cold chill ran down Arianna's spine. With a heightened sense of urgency, Arianna forgot her dilemma with her wardrobe and slipped into her boots. Twisting her hair into a knot at the back of her head, Arianna made her way back to the deck.

She found Thomas and the crew organizing and loading supplies; sail cloth, rope, the fresh water supply and food, among other things; into the small boats to be taken ashore. She scanned the faces on deck once more. Where were Derek and Alejandro?

She made her way to Thomas and inquired after the captain and first mate.

"Overboard." Thomas replied, straining with two other crewmen to load a chest into the small boat.

"Overboard? The both of them?" Her tone was incredulous.

"Aye, the first mate lost his footing and the captain dove in after him."

Arianna remembered Derek teasing Alejandro for accidentally going overboard once. She supposed, if they lived, this would now make it twice. Saying a quick prayer for their safety, she returned her attention to Thomas before she sank too deeply into her own thoughts. She had stayed aboard to help, and help she would.

"What still needs done, Thomas?"

Thomas stood straight and drew a full breath after his exertion, as the other two men adjusted the trunk in the small boat. His gaze traveled the deck, assessing what the other crewmen had already achieved.

"I believe we have everything here. Perhaps you could check with the cook and see if he needs any assistance."

"Right." Arianna turned, making her way below deck to the kitchens. She felt very much like the cabin boy she once again looked like.

As she made the kitchens, she realized she had entered a domain of complete chaos. The cook, a large Frenchman with a dark mustache that curled up over the corners of his mouth, stood in the middle of the room ranting frantically in French as cabin boys and crewmen threw things haphazardly into crates. The Frenchman's hair was all in disarray from his constant tugging and his face was flushed an almost purple.

Arianna stepped in the room and slowly, one by one, every last body quit every movement and gave her their steadfast attention. The Frenchman was the last to notice the quiet around him, he finally quit speaking and followed the other men's stare to the doorway.

"Mademoiselle!" He all but breathed as his eyes traveled the length of her.

"Might I be able to lend some assistance, Monsieur?" Arianna queried, as she stood from the doorframe and made her way into the room.

"Oh, merci,merci. But you see, mademoiselle, we have everything here, these men just do not listen is all."

Arianna smiled. How were they supposed to listen, when they could not understand him?

Arianna glanced into the crate closest to her and noticed flour stacked next to an inverted glass jar containing some liquid.

Shaking her head, she set to work directing the group around her until everything was packed away with like things and all breakable supplies had been protected. Just as they were finishing, the Lady shifted beneath them.

Thomas appeared in the doorway.

"Last call. The storm is worsening, we must prepare to abandon ship."

Arianna nodded. "Alright, men. You heard Mr. Bell. Let's get these crates topside."

"Aye, aye." The men chanted as they began to lift crates and file from the kitchens. Arianna glanced around the kitchens looking for anything that may have been forgotten.

She spotted a small vegetable knife upon the cutting board and retrieved it with a shrug. One never knew what might come in handy.

She untucked the front of her shirt, cutting off some of the extra length to wrap around the blade, before she tucked her shirt back in and concealed the blade at her waistband.
With one last glance around, Arianna followed the others topside.

*****

The storm finally began to lighten long after the sun had set. Rain still fell from the sky but 'twas more of a steady drizzle than the torrential downpour it had been earlier.

The men had fashioned two large tents out of sailcloth and large branches. The women and children occupied one and the men filled the other. They had also fashioned a covered station for the cook and the fire burned strong between the three shelters.

Everyone had retired for the night, save Arianna, who sat under the cook's canopy contemplating the flames before her. In her hands she held a long twig which she broke into small pieces before feeding it to the flames.

She finally allowed herself to dwell on her churning emotions. She was hurt. He had not informed her, when he had known that they were betrothed. She felt like a fool. Here she had complained to him about her absentee fiancé and it had been him the whole time.

Was he no better than Bailey? Did Derek want her for her holdings as well? If he cared about her, as she had come to care about him, wouldn't he have been happy to tell her? If their roles had been reversed, surely she would have informed him. Would you? She asked herself.

With a sigh, Arianna decided that she would not form a solid opinion without at least giving him a chance to explain himself. She truly hoped he had some unseen reason for not telling her. Something that would help her justify forgiving him.

But as she added a last log to the fire and searched her mind, she could not create a single hypothetical scenario that would forgive the deceit her heart felt.