Catastrophe With a Count

by Murdoch, Emily

Nerissa felt her blood start to boil, and walked after him. “Nonsense? ‘Tis not nonsense, it is common sense that – do not walk away from me when I am talking to you!”

  They had reached the stern now, and Count Anthony leaned back against the ship and laughed at her. It was a cold laugh, a bitter laugh, one that she had heard in the court room the day before and it had not left her mind.

  “You were not talking to me,” he said, shaking his head and grinning. “You were lecturing me – and I have enough misery in my life without you adding to it.”

  Nerissa stared at him, a twinge of sadness, or perhaps it was pity, twisting her stomach. But then she remembered his words, remembered what he had said about her father in the court room, remembered his determination to take her father’s earnings from him for a simple mistake.

  “You have only brought misery on yourself,” she said coldly, avoiding his eye.

  There was a moment of silence between them, the boat moving up and down more rapidly now that they had increased their speed. She did not want to look at him, felt afraid for some reason to meet his eye – and yet without doing so, she had no idea what he was thinking.

  Her eyes glanced up. If she had hoped to read the expression on his face, then she was sorely mistaken. It was a strange mixture of emotions, so tangled that she could not undo the knot. Was he sad, angry, bitter, disappointed, relieved to see her?

  His jaw clenched, and then he said softly, “Olivia.”

  Nerissa blinked. “Miss Nerissa Fairchild. Are you feeling quite well?”

  Count Anthony laughed shortly, and turned away from her to look out himself at the ocean. “My sister. My sister is Olivia, and without the Stratham fortune that had been promised to her by our parents before they died, she can no longer marry.”

  Horror struck, Nerissa stared at him in complete silence as the meaning of those words echoed in her mind.

  “Her dowry is completely gone,” said Count Anthony bitterly, looking down now at his hands in fierce frustration. “Gone because her brother thought he was clever. Invest it, I thought. Double it within a year, so that when her engagement with Ainsworth was announced… That’s the Duke of Ainsworth, of course. But that is all over now. Ainsworth announced his betrothal to our cousin, the Lady Anne Forsyth of Kennilborough, believe it or not. We never liked her.”

  Nerissa found that her mouth had fallen open, her mind unable to comprehend what she had just heard. “He…he abandoned his engagement with your sister because…because of money?”

  What she did not say was just how human Count Anthony seemed to become when he spoke about his sister. A stronger breeze cut across them and ruffled his hair, and for a moment he looked like anyone else; a sad, vulnerable man who loved his sister and had disappointed her.

  But then Nerissa thought more about the situation, and she bristled. “Why could not the gentleman have loved her enough to marry without the dowry? What sort of a man is that?”

  She saw Count Anthony’s eyes widen, and he looked over at her with mild surprise in his eyes.

  “My dear Miss Fairchild,” he said, almost pityingly. “You have so much to learn. If I had the inclination, I could teach you.”

  A thrill of something dark and delightful shot through Nerissa’s body, and she found herself unconsciously licking her lips.

  “Teach me?” She whispered.

  He turned towards her, and smiled. “Miss Fairchild, in my rank of society, money and nobility go hand in hand. One cannot have one without the other, you see, and when one is lost…”

  His voice trailed off delicately, but Nerissa snorted.

  “That is the aspect of London society that I miss the least, you know.” She laughed at his astonished expression. “Yes, I did live in London, I have not always dwelt amongst the colonists here. And I can tell you, Anthony – for although I am no republican your title does you little service and gives no meaning here – that in Port Royal we have all had to shift for ourselves. When your town is never too far, it seems, from natural disasters, if a person has real value in their character then that is enough to recommend them. It is enough to fall in love with.”

  “And it is enough for you to fall in love with?” Count Anthony murmured. His hand had somehow found hers, she was unsure when, because all she knew was that she did not want him to let go. There was something very reassuring, very secure about the feeling of her hand in his.

  But then her eyes met his, and something in his grip changed. It felt like possession, like fire, like property, like lust and deception, and she shivered to look at him and yet did not want the feeling to end.

  He coughed and dropped her hand. “‘Tis of no matter anyway,” he said gruffly, turning once more to look out to sea. “I have lost my case, and at some point in the near future I will have to return home to Olivia, and tell her that we will need to sell the family home and find somewhere to end our days.”

  Sighing deeply, his gaze did not wander from the horizon, but Nerissa rolled her eyes. Whatever this Count Anthony was, and she was still unsure whether she even liked him or not, he certainly did have a talent for the dramatic.

  Looking out at the horizon herself, she drew her shawl more closely to her. She knew that sky. A storm was coming, and if she was very much mistaken, it would not be long before it arrived.

  “And you, Miss Fairchild?”

  She almost jumped at the sound of his words, he spoke so softly, and his head tilted towards her was full of an intensity she had never seen before.

  “Me?” She managed.

  “Have you found someone to love you, no matter your wealth?” His tone was almost nonchalant, but there was just a touch of interest to quicken her heart rate.

  Was he in earnest? Was he genuinely interested in learning about her marital status; to enquire so was, surely, to understand whether she was spoken for, whether she had an understanding with another gentleman of the town.

  Giddy with the thought that this handsome man – and a count, no matter his income – could in any way be interested in her, Nerissa spoke without thought.

  “Oh, it does not signify really,” she said with a wicked smile. “I have enough wealth for that question not to even become an issue.”

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realised what she had said, and more importantly, to whom she had said it. Her cheeks crimsoned and her hands flew to her mouth in horror.

  But the Count did not seem to be offended. To the contrary, Count Anthony burst into laughter and managed to say, “Well, yes – my wealth!”

  “That is not what – I did not mean – it cannot exactly be…” Nerissa spluttered as rain droplets started to fall from heaven, but Count Anthony merely smiled at her and waved his hand.

  “I know what you meant,” he said, almost kindly. He looked up at the sky. “Nay, my quarrel is not with you, Miss Fairchild. And besides, you should take cover as this storm comes in. I do not believe that we shall reach the shore before it hits us.”

  Nerissa swallowed and looked around the small ship. It had not been designed for long distance travel, just short journeys around the bay for the paying public. There were not even any living quarters or cover to find.

  His eyes had followed her, and the dawning realisation that they were trapped on a ship with no way to take cover and no protection from the elements, without the time to reach Port Royal, could be seen arriving on his face.

  “Exactly,” murmured Nerissa quietly. “And what do we do now?”

  4

  Anthony looked around himself wildly. There must be something, something that they could do – or somewhere that they could go. But his time on the Valiant over to Port Royal, though it had ended it catastrophe and left him almost drowning, had taught him much about ships.

  This was not a ship. It was barely a boat; there was nothing that they could do, and no one but God himself could stop the oncoming storm. They were stuck, stuck in a boat with no shelter on the ocean with a terrible storm coming.<
br />
  His gaze moved back to Nerissa – Miss Fairchild, he must remember to call her Miss Fairchild, and there was no mistaking the look of terror and fear on her face. Her diamond earrings sparkled, wet in the shimmering rain.

  He swallowed. “Have you ever been in a storm like this?”

  The gut instinct that he had been born with was right again as she nodded, her hair loosening as the gale winds rose.

  “Once before,” she whispered, her eyes staring at him as though he was the only thing that could stop her from drowning. “Just once. The ship…the ship went down. We were fortunate that we were close to shore but my…my mother…”

  Anthony now used the curse word for which he had but minutes ago berated Nerissa – Miss Fairchild – for using. God’s teeth, but of course her only other experience of a storm involved a parental bereavement. No wonder she was standing there as though death itself was coming for her.

  The waves were now rocking the boat greatly, forcing them to cling to the side to ensure that they did not lose their footing.

  Close to shore, she had said. Being close to shore had saved them. One quick glance told him that they would have no such luck. They had traversed just far enough from Port Royal for a quick return to be impossible – and that would have only worked if the sailors had worked fast.

  Anthony bit his lip. “Stay here.”

  “Where are you – ”

  Nerissa’s voice was soon lost in the wind as he strode over to the captain who was battling the waves at the helm.

  “What can we do?” Anthony asked, his voice raised to overcome the roaring of the wind.

  The captain shrugged and leaned heavily into the wind to try and keep the boat steady. “Pray, my boy. Pray that we can get as close to the docks as possible – and if you ever learned how to swim, start remembering.”

  “But there must be a smaller boat on board,” Anthony persisted, feeling the lashings of rain against his face. “A lifeboat, or cork jackets? Something for ladies, for women and children!”

  The captain shrugged once more. “Extra weight, m’boy. Cannot afford extra weight.”

  “But you can afford to condemn us all to death?” Anthony snapped. His temper, always on the surface now, always ready and waiting to pounce on his next unsuspecting victim, rose up like an angry bear. “You fool, cannot you see that if we all perish, it was for want of a little extra weight?”

  So incensed by the captain’s lack of care, Anthony did not wait for an answer but turned away from him to return to Nerissa – a task not easily accomplished. The wind had got up, a flash of lightning illuminating his path, and rain was pouring heavily now.

  She was shaking slightly now, shaking with fear or shivering with cold, he could not tell. What he could see was her determination to ensure that he did not notice; as soon as he reached her, she smiled bravely at him, her hair now almost drenched.

  “Hello again,” she said with a quivering laugh. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

  Anthony laughed too, and was impressed, despite himself. This Miss Nerissa Fairchild, dressed in the latest fashions looked more like the toast of the ton, or so she would have been, if she had remained in London. But he would guess she was not a chit of a girl, but one in her early twenties. And now as he looked at her, as she stared unblinkingly back at him, he could see that there was a layer of grit underneath the beauty.

  He did not know what it was about her, but she seemed to draw out of him some sort of innate protectiveness. Something that Olivia did, only completely different. He wanted to hurt for her, to punish someone for the position that she was in, for the fear that she felt.

  No matter what happened, he would take care of her.

  “We are the only two passengers,” he said aloud, trying to ensure that she did not guess the direction of his silent musings. “I wonder that I did not notice that before.”

  It had been an idle remark, but Nerissa smiled despite the storm. “I suppose that we were so busy arguing that neither of us had time to recollect that we were in a public place.”

  Her shawl was damp now, and he could see the rainwater starting to seep into her gown. The ship rolled over another wave and thunder cracked, seemingly right about them.

  Anthony did not think, he just acted. Shrugging off his greatcoat, he placed it around her shoulders and wrapped it tightly around her.

  “But – but you will be cold!” Nerissa protested.

  “Yes,” Anthony said simply. His gaze now moved around the ship. The crew, or what could only be described as a crew because there was no other collective noun for a group of people who should know how to manage a boat but could not, were desperately attempting to turn it back around, towards Port Royal. But the wind was too high, and their frantic efforts did not seem to be making any difference whatsoever, as far as Anthony could see.

  So. Here they were, two souls with nowhere to go, nothing that they could do, no other ship to escape to, the ship that they were standing in almost certain to go down.

  Nerissa was bending down, almost seated.

  “What are you – ”

  “My shoes,” she said, by way of explanation. When she looked up and saw his undoubtedly confused expression, she smiled, despite the pouring rain. “I am taking my shoes off. With them on, I am far more likely to…to drown. I learned to swim after I arrived at Port Royal, and without shoes, I…I may have a chance.”

  There was a quaver in her voice, but it held just about steady. Anthony smiled at her, and perhaps for the first time in their acquaintance, it was a genuine one.

  “Excellent idea,” he said and followed her lead. It was as he threw them aside that he pictured himself carrying Nerissa – Miss Fairchild, Miss Fairchild – across the beach into the waiting arms of her friends, with cheers perhaps and a celebration to welcome him as a hero.

  The picture darkened, and Anthony smiled as he saw the reward that Mr Fairchild would hand over to him. Plenty of money, for what could possibly replace the child, his only child?

  “Count Stratham – Anthony?”

  Nerissa’s voice pushed those thoughts aside, and shame instead of venal pleasure entered his heart. What sort of a man would he be, if he could only imagine helping someone for money? That was not the life that he wanted to lead, not the life that he would choose.

  A flash of lightning and an almost immediate thunderclap above them told him that this was it. The waves were now pouring over the sides of the boat.

  The three sailors were crying out to their captain, but he looked forward, determined not to move.

  Anthony swallowed. A captain always went down with his ship.

  “You can swim?” He said hurriedly. “Nerissa, you can swim?”

  She did not even balance at the use of her name, but instead nodded. “With my shoes off, I will not make it to Port Royal, but – ”

  “You do not need to,” Anthony interrupted with a grin. “Look.” He pointed slightly to their left at the spike of land that pushed out, creating the bay. “All we have to do is get to there.”

  He watched her eyes stare at the trees. They were surely a mile off, and a mile was an awfully long way to swim. But she did not say anything about that; instead, she took off his greatcoat and handed it back to him.

  “I think,” she said with a wry smile,” that I would rather not have to swim with that on.”

  Anthony stared at her in astonishment and then, without any warning, burst into peals of laughter.

  Nerissa scowled. “And what is so funny?”

  Her reaction made him laugh even more, a deep laugh like his voice. “Cannot you see? How ridiculous is it that it is only during another catastrophe that we are able to have a civil conversation with each other?”

  She stared at him for a moment, and Anthony felt a great swelling of warmth for her – and not just in his loins, but in his chest. He had not felt like this for anyone, no other medley of intrigue and curiosity and desire and affection.

  Ner
issa’s lips curled slightly into a begrudging smile. “It is a little – aarghhhh!”

  The Sea Scout suddenly tipped, throwing out all of its passengers into the open seas, and Nerissa’s was not the only one as they hit the water.

  * * *

  Nerissa spluttered as her head seemed to finally reach the surface and spat out a mouthful of salty water. It pained her throat and lungs to take a deep breath but she knew she had to; the water may be warm, but it was already starting to drag her down.

  Her shawl was still clinging around her shoulders, and pushing herself to think clearly she managed to tread water.

  Lose the shawl. She flung it away from her, and tried to ignore the insistent patter of rain falling onto her head. Blinking away seawater, she turned her head to see the Sea Scout slowly sinking.

  So where was Anthony?

  For a moment she was overwhelmed with panic. She could see no one, hear no one, she was alone in the middle of the ocean and –

  “Nerissa!” Anthony rose up beside her, taking a huge breath and staring around for her wildly.

  “Anthony!” She cried out his name in relief, almost like a prayer and felt a rush of reassurance flower through her. Just the sight of him, just knowing that he was beside her, made her feel all the more certain that they were going to be safe.

  He turned to look at her, and smiled wearily to see her face as he shouted. “Nerissa, do not worry, we will – ”

  But so focused was he on reassuring her that he had not been paying attention to the waves, and a large swell forced him to swallow a mouthful of sea water and he retched piteously.

  Nerissa smiled, and shook her head. “Are you meant to be rescuing me, or is it the other way around?”

  “‘Tis a little difficult to swim when you are layered in clothes,” he snapped, the familiar fire returning to his voice. Nerissa was surprised to find that she quite enjoyed hearing him irritated at her.

  “What do you think I am wearing, a lace handkerchief?” She retorted, choking slightly. “I do not think that – ”