Surrender the Heart

by Marylu Tyndall

  At least that was the plan. “On my mark, gentleman!” he bellowed.

  Sails flapped and thundered. Then whoomp, the canvas caught the wind and billowed above them like bulging muscles. The ship jerked, then veered to starboard, picking up speed.

  Bracing his boots on the deck, Noah took his position at one of the guns beside Weller. The Defender swept forward, crashing into rollers and sweeping spray onto her deck. Before them, the Undefeatable rose like a massive whale emerging from the sea.

  “Fire!” Noah yelled.

  Weller applied the red-hot end of the wick to the gun’s touchhole.

  Five guns exploded in a deafening chorus. The ship quivered under the blast, then groaned in protest.

  Black smoke slapped Noah in the face.

  Coughing, he batted it away, gulping for air. “Hard to larboard!” he shouted.

  With straining lines and creaking blocks, the Defender lurched and swung away from the Undefeatable.

  Yellow flames shot through the haze in the distance. The air burst with thunderous boom after thunderous boom as the Undefeatable gave her reply.

  Clutching the railing, Noah shook the salty spray from his face and peered through the dissipating smoke. No eerie whine of speeding shot sped past his ears, no strike jolted the ship, no screams of agony, only the splash of cannon balls sounded as they struck the sea.

  But then, in the distance, the ominous snap of a mighty piece of wood crackled the air.

  “Move aside! Get out of the way!” followed by various expletives shot toward Noah through the fog.

  A thunderous boom echoed. Not the boom of a cannon. But the sound of sweet carnage.

  As the last vestiges of sooty mist cleared, Noah’s eyes confirmed what his ears had already told him. The top half of the mainmast of the Undefeatable had toppled to the deck and now hung over the side in a tangle of halyards, cordage, and sailcloth.

  Huzzahs filled his ship like bubbles in champagne.

  Noah released a breath. His crew swamped him with congratulations.

  Without their mainmast, without their steering, the Undefeatable was nothing but a crippled hulk.

  “Bring us athwart her bow, Mr. Pike. We’ll give her another raking.” Noah scanned the deck. “Mr. Boone, go below and check for damage. Matthew, retrieve my weapons.”

  His old friend gave Noah a curious look before disappearing down a hatch.

  Off Noah’s starboard side, another snapping sound, followed by cheers, drew his gaze. Released from the maze of tangled lines, the Constitution eased away from her enemy. Free at last, she appeared in far better condition than the Guerriére, whose main- and foremasts toppled to her deck in a snarled heap of lines and canvas. At least now the Constitution could defend herself.

  Behind the two ships, the last traces of sunlight spilled over the horizon. In minutes, it would be too dark to see anything.

  The Defender spun around and came in across the drifting Undefeatable‘s bow. Noah grabbed his spyglass and searched her decks for any sign of Marianne. He saw nothing but the frenzied efforts of the crew as they chopped away the broken mast before it dragged the ship onto her side. Captain Milford stood at the head of the quarterdeck, flanked by his officers, his head bowed and his hands gripping the railing.

  Marianne must still be below.

  Short of pummeling the Undefeatable into surrender with broadside after broadside, and risk injuring Marianne in the process, Noah had no idea how he was going to get her off that ship.

  CHAPTER 29

  The pulse of guns throbbed in Marianne’s ears. She darted to the cabin door and swung it open. The red blur of a marine uniform jumped in her vision. A musket crossed the doorframe, barring her passage.

  “Allow me to pass at once!” She stomped her foot. The man’s face was a mask of control. “My orders are to keep you within, miss.”

  “Blast your orders, sir. Can you not tell we have been fired upon?”

  An ear-piercing snap split the air, followed by an ominous groan, screams and shouts, then a boom that shook Marianne straight down to her bones.

  A flicker of alarm crossed the marine’s stiff features.

  Just before the ship jerked to larboard.

  Arms flailing, Marianne toppled over the deck and struck the captain’s cabinet. Pain flared up her arm and into her shoulder. Shaking the fog from her head, she leaned forward and inched over the tilted deck, back to the open door. Surely the marine would have left his post for more important tasks.

  But there he stood, rigid as a wooden soldier.

  She slammed the door on him and stumbled to the stern windows. Squeezing onto the ledge, she peered out at the chaotic scene. Turbulent seas churned beneath a smoke-filled darkening sky. Who had struck them? The Constitution?

  Or, as unimaginable as the thought could be, Noah?

  Oh Lord, keep him safe.

  Before she finished her prayer, the Fortune swung into view, riding high and wide on a valiant steed of foamy white.

  Her heart stopped beating as she pressed her forehead to the glass, seeking its captain.

  There. On the foredeck, feet spread apart, spyglass to his eye, Noah stood—in defiance of his lack of battle experience—with the confidence of a hardened warrior.

  But he wasn’t a warrior. He was a merchantman. And by all appearances, a merchantman who had lost his good sense.

  “I’m here! I’m here!” Marianne waved her arms in desperation but soon dropped them to her lap. He could not see her.

  But she must get his attention.

  Why? Even if she did, how could he rescue her? The frigate was disabled, but not the men aboard her. She could hear all two hundred and fifty of them buzzing above her like a swarm of angry bees.

  Lord, what do I do?

  A undeniable pain lanced her heart as she gazed at the man she loved. He was so close. So very close. So close she could almost see the resolution on his face, could almost hear his deep, courageous voice.

  But they might as well be oceans apart.

  Withdrawing from the glass, she brushed her frantic fingers over the edges of the window, searching for a latch, a lever, something that might open them. She pounded on the panes. Her palms ached as tears streamed down her cheeks.

  She searched again. A latch. There was a latch. She unhooked it and shoved open the window. A blast of chilled air shoved her backward. She barreled forward and poked her head through the opening. Wind, stained with gunpowder and smoke, whipped over her face from all sides, tearing her hair from its pins and nearly forcing her to retreat.

  She dared to glance below at the foaming, angry waves. Her throat closed, and a shudder ran through her. Tearing her gaze from the sight, she peered toward Noah’s ship.

  “Noah!” She tried to yell but the heavy breeze stole her words and swept them away.

  “There she is!” Noah lowered his scope and handed it to Luke. The Defender had tacked around the bow of the Undefeatable and now sailed off her larboard quarter. He pointed at the stern of the frigate where two arms waved frantically amidst a wild array of wind-thrashed brown hair.

  Luke chuckled. “Quite a woman you have there.”

  Have? Noah was surprised at the sudden joy that flared within him at his friend’s statement. Was Marianne his? Did she forgive him for leaving her? “Sink me, she’s broke through the captain’s cabin!” Blackthorn’s roaring voice ended in a hearty chuckle.

  “Miss Marianne, Miss Marianne!” Daniel jumped on the gunwale and flung his arms through the air.

  Noah swerved on his heel, forcing the command from his mouth before he allowed reason to strangle it. “Lower the cockboat!”

  “Are you daft, Cap’n?” Blackthorn grabbed his arm, stopping him. “You won’t get within twenty yards o’ that ship before their swivels blast you from the sea.”

  Noah glanced at the two guns fastened to the Undefeatable‘s stern railing. Already gun crews hovered busily around them. “Perhaps. But have you any other ideas h
ow to save the lady?”

  “We’ve done our duty, Cap’n.” Weller ran the two remaining fingers on his right hand over the scars on his face. “We saved the Constitution. But to try and rescue Miss Denton. Why that’s sheer foolery.”

  Noah knew he was right. He also knew he couldn’t expect his men to risk their lives any further for him or for Marianne.

  Luke gripped Noah’s shoulders. “Yet to not try would be even more foolish.”

  Noah’s throat burned at the man’s loyalty as Luke cocked a brow, then turned and barked orders to the men to lower the tackles and attach the lines to the boat.

  Daniel fed his hand into his father’s and gazed up at Noah.

  “Do you have a word for me?” Noah hoped to hear something positive from God, anything that would give him a hint that they might succeed.

  But the boy lifted clear eyes and shrugged. “Sometimes you just have to trust Him.”

  With a nod, Noah swung about to watch the narrow vessel dip over the side. Trust was one thing when life was ordinary. But Noah faced impossible odds. He prayed he wouldn’t take a shot through his head or a sword through his gut.

  Mr. Rupert leapt up from below and approached Noah, a look of concern wrinkling his face. “We’re taking in more water.”

  “How bad is it?”

  He shook his head. “We’ll probably sink within the hour.”

  Impossible odds that had just become more impossible.

  Noah faced Matthew. “If things go awry, head for the Constitution.” “I won’t leave you, Cap’n.” The old man’s voice brooked no argument.

  Mr. Lothar approached, holding out Noah’s weapons. Grabbing a pistol, Noah primed it and then stuffed it into his belt and sighed. “Do as I say.” Turning, he laid a hand on Matthew’s shoulder and gave him a knowing look.

  The man snorted in return.

  Plucking Noah’s sword from Mr. Lothar’s grasp, Luke strapped it on his own waist. “I’m going with you.”

  “And me,” Blackthorn said.

  Though moved by their loyalty, Noah could not allow it. “This is my fight, gentlemen. I can’t ask you to join me. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I didn’t hear you ask.” Blackthorn kissed his son on the forehead then leapt on the bulwarks.

  “There is a good chance we will all be killed.” Noah gave Blackthorn and Luke a stern look.

  Luke grinned. “Some things are worth dying for.”

  Yanking her head back into the cabin, Marianne heaved to catch her breath. They’d seen her. A vision of Daniel waving with enthusiasm brought a smile to her lips. And Noah. As soon as he’d spotted her, he fell into deep conversation with Luke and Blackthorn.

  About how to rescue her?

  But what did it matter? There was nothing they could do to help her.

  She twisted the ring on her finger and gazed back out the window. They were lowering a boat. A boat?

  No! They’d be blown from the water.

  Was Noah mad?

  Thrusting her face into the buffeting wind, she waved her arms. “No! No!” But when she retreated, she found her warning had gone unheeded. The boat struck the water, and Luke and Blackthorn flung themselves over the bulwarks and ambled down a rope ladder. Noah dropped into the vessel and took his spot at the bow.

  A wave of terror swept through her as they shoved off from the Fortune and dipped their oars in the water.

  Her heart froze.

  Footsteps pounded above her. The eerie squeal and crank of the swivel gun being maneuvered into position sent a shiver down her back.

  She must do something.

  Dashing to the door, she opened it to the red-coated back of the marine still in position. She slammed it and toured the cabin, seeking anything—anything she could use.

  For what purpose, she didn’t know.

  She slid open drawers, flung open cabinets. Her fingers trembled.

  Boom! The gun fired. The ship quivered.

  She raced to the window.

  The shot splashed harmlessly into the sea not ten feet from the boat.

  Still they came.

  Noah, no! What are you doing?

  She flung open the armoire doors. Her eyes landed on a coiled rope tucked at the bottom next to the captain’s dress boots. Grabbing it, she returned to the window.

  She tied one end of the rope to the captain’s desk and flung the rest out the window.

  If they insisted on coming for her, if by the grace of God they made it to the ship, the least she could do would be to meet them halfway down the stern.

  Even though the thought of dangling in midair over the raging sea sent blood pounding in her head.

  Even though the thought of sitting in that tiny boat—with only a few planks of wood between her and the sea—made her shake uncontrollably.

  Even though she wasn’t altogether sure she could even do either of those things.

  Still if they intended to kill themselves, maybe God would allow her a few minutes in Noah’s arms before they were all blasted to heaven.

  She poked her head out the window and glanced down. Claws of angry foam reached up to grab her. She jerked back inside—to the safety of the ship. She grabbed her throat. Her rapid pulse thrummed against her fingers.

  Boom! Another shot fired.

  She peered again at the darkening sea. The splash sent a frothy geyser into the air just a few feet before the bow of Noah’s boat.

  Barely flinching, he continued rowing.

  She could make out his face now, could even see the firm lines of determination that etched his bronzed skin whenever he’d made up his mind to do something.

  Stubborn fool.

  Yet … She bit her lip. If he could risk his life for her, surely she could face her deepest fears.

  Crawling up on the ledge, she clutched the rope and swung one leg over the side. Taking a deep breath, she swung the other leg over.

  Close your eyes. Don’t look down. Don’t look down.

  Salty mist struck her face. The wind whipped her skirts. She gripped the rope and slowly lowered herself over the side.

  Her feet dangled like bait over the ravenous sea, and she tapped them against the hull until she found a foothold.

  Her sweaty hands slipped on the rope.

  Boom! Another shot fired above her. The rope quivered like the string of a fiddle.

  She opened her eyes to see the shot strike Noah’s boat and blow it to pieces.

  “Jump!” Noah shouted then dove over the side into the raging sea. Cold water enveloped him. The roar of the blast filled his ears. A liquid wall struck him. Spikes of wood shot through the sea. One pierced his leg. Pain burned up his thigh. The screams of his men, the cannon blasts, the lap of waves, all combined in a muted symphony beneath the gurgling water.

  His lungs ached. He righted himself and kicked his feet. His head popped above the surface to see nothing but planks of charred wood where his boat had been. Swirling around, he searched for his friends. Luke’s head bobbed in the distance. Blackthorn appeared beside him.

  “Go back!” Noah shouted their way.

  “What about you?” Water dripped from Blackthorn’s dark hair.

  Noah glanced toward his ship. In the encroaching darkness, nothing but a gray shape loomed where he’d left the Defender. Even so, he could tell her hull sat lower in the water.

  “I order you to go back. Sail to the Constitution.”

  He gazed at the stern of the Undefeatable and was shocked to see Marianne hanging onto a rope, dangling midair.

  Foolish, brave, wonderful girl!

  He couldn’t leave her. He wouldn’t leave her. Even if it meant he became a prisoner of the British navy once again. Even if it meant his death.

  “You’re mad!” Luke shouted over the waves. He spit out a mouthful of water. Concern shone from his eyes. “Come back with us.”

  Noah shook his head.

  Luke groaned, but finally nodded and turned toward the Defender. Blackthorn followe
d him.

  Blue waters transformed to ebony as the last traces of light escaped below the horizon. Gathering a huge breath, Noah dove beneath the murky waters and swam toward the monstrous shadow of the frigate. A monster holding his princess captive.