by Ava Bradley
A long moment of silence ticked by. "I do wish you would reconsider," Mrs. Bailey finally said on a soft breath. "It is so dangerous. You should not engage in such activities. Why, it is downright criminal. Even if you were to succeed, what if word of this got out in Baltimore? You have your future to consider."
"What is the worst that can happen? Mr. Weiss will refuse me?"
Mrs. Bailey rose and stood behind her. "You must not do anything to risk your marriage. Adriana, you do not understand this now, but later, you will thank me."
Adriana swallowed, forcing away the bitter notion. Nothing good would come of this union.
"If you feel you must repay some debt you imagine of your father, then sail Mr. De la Croix to his destination and leave him to his own devices. Please, Adriana, promise me we will then immediately go ashore and book return passage to Baltimore."
Adriana met her eyes in the mirror. She forced a smile. "I promise."
"We must maintain our account of this incident, for the good of your reputation. You were kidnapped by force, but you remained chaperoned by me the entire time."
Christian's kiss invaded her mind like a flash of lightning. Mrs. Bailey had indeed chaperoned her, but not so thoroughly that Adriana hadn't experienced the most enchanting kiss of her life. Surely nothing so wonderful would ever happen to her again, not in the future she was destined for.
Chapter Thirteen
When the burly man stood guard, he paced back and forth in the tiny crewman's cabin without meeting Edmund's eyes. By their third day at sea, John Locke no longer pretended he was still loyally in Edmund's employ. The feeble excuses and thin lies had stopped. Now, the man couldn't even be convinced to engage in simple conversation. There was no doubt in Edmund's mind John had been the would-be assassin holding the gun that foggy night last September.
For a blissful two hours Edmund had been alone in the cabin. He relished in the peace. He went over the shooting again and again in his mind. Now, he could clearly remember the silhouette outlining the rounded slump of John Locke's shoulders, the slightly pigeon-toed gait to the attacker as he'd fled into the murky darkness.
Why hadn't I seen these things before? he asked himself. Because I hadn't wanted to. He still could hardly believe it. It seemed unreal. His employee had tried to murder him.
But Edmund realized the situation was worse than he'd first believed. At least now he finally knew the reason. Charles Weiss was up to no good. John Locke had only been following orders. Charles' orders.
Just what exactly did he intend? Edmund's head throbbed as he tried to make sense of it. After so many days in the dim lighting, his head ached and his eyes were extra sensitive to light. Did the man really want him dead? Or was it the boys' father, Vincent, who was truly behind it all?
His infirmary chair rolled as Windfall rose and fell on the ocean's heavy swells. The weather grew worse the farther north they sailed, but each moment headed in the wrong direction multiplied the distance between Windfall and Lady Luck. Edmund counted his blessings, wondering how far Charles would go before realizing he'd been set on a false trail.
There had been rumors R.L.W. Steel was experiencing financial troubles, but before the arrangement between Preston and Adriana had been finalized, Edmund's inquiries had proved they were just that; rumors. He knew now his sources had been wrong. Wrong, or intentionally falsified.
Undoubtedly, he had been wrong about many things. His life was now at risk, as well as Adriana's. If Charles Weiss would kidnap him by force without concern for the consequences, Edmund knew he wouldn't live long enough to inflict any. What would they do to Adriana? Her claims had all been true–clearly the Weiss family was only after the Montague Shipping fortune.
Why, oh why, didn’t I listen to her?
He squeezed his eyes shut. Regardless of her accusations, he should have considered her happiness first. She despised Preston Weiss, but had agreed to the marriage to satisfy him; his own greedy need for more money, more notoriety. He'd been a fool. A fool who didn't deserve the beautiful daughter he feared he would soon loose.
Dear Adriana, he whispered to the empty room. I am so sorry.
He looked up as John Locke burst in without knocking. The man plopped onto his bunk, eating a cheese sandwich. He didn't acknowledge Edmund.
"You are a bigger imbecile 'han I 'hought."
John's gaze snapped up.
"If you 'rust Charles Weiss."
The burly man's chewing stopped.
Edmund said the words carefully, making sure Locke understood. "Wha-ever he has planned for me, he plans for you, as well."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Edmund merely closed his eyes and shook his head. The man was fierce and strong, but not so smart. Thank God he'd botched his task last September.
"Right, listen now." John dropped the sandwich on the bunk beside himself and pointed his finger menacingly. Edmund's mouth watered. He hadn't eaten since yesterday.
"He's already paid me a small fortune. More than you ever did all these years. So I got no reason not to trust him."
"Curious," Edmund managed. "Wha' is your price for mur-er?"
John stopped, his mouth agape, a tiny piece of bread clinging to his trembling chin. He stood to leave as the door opened and Charles Weiss strode in.
"Good day. Everybody enjoying the voyage?"
"I 'emand you put me ashore imme-iately."
"A rather peculiar thing just happened," Charles continued as if he hadn't heard. "We passed a whaler whose captain claims to have seen Lady Luck off the coast of Georgia, heading south. It seems he took special notice because he and Henri are old chums."
Edmund's heart started beating faster. Windfall was turning, he could feel it. The wheels of his chair twisted with the motion.
"How about it, old man? It seems your assumption she'd headed north to your summer cabin in Nova Scotia was wrong."
Charles bent down and planted both hands on the armrests of Edmund's chair. He drifted closer until his nose was only inches from Edmund's. He reeked of whiskey and onions.
"I only said she may have gone 'ere. Perhaps she's gone 'o our home in Por' Augus'."
"New Orleans?" Charles said with an incredulous tone. Clearly he didn't believe it. "In June?"
"We have no other proper'ies. Where else wou' she go?"
"That's what I want you to tell me, old man." He reached up with his thumb and forefinger and snapped Edmund across the jagged scars crossing his jaw.
A starburst of brilliant pain exploded in Edmund's head, momentarily blinding him with a bright spots of red. The ruined muscles of his jaw spasmed involuntarily and he ground out his agony through his remaining teeth. "-Oody hell!"
"Why else do you think I brought you along?" Charles finished simply.
John Locke stepped forward. "Here now, don't hurt him."
Charles stood upright and glanced at John. "Funny you of all people should be concerned about that." He laughed, and turned and strode out of the cabin.
"Put in to Providence and send a wire to Fort Lauderdale, Key West and Cape Romano." He called to his captain. "Offer a reward to anyone who can give us information on Lady Luck's whereabouts."
Charles hesitated in the doorway. He beamed a wicked smile. "Fear not, Edmund. We shall find your lovely daughter."
John Locke hesitated with a guilty glance before following Preston out of the cabin.
The door slammed, shutting him inside his musty prison. Edmund shoved himself out of his chair and grabbed the discarded sandwich off John's bunk, but now his jaw hurt too much to eat it.
* * *
Christian sat at the bow watching as the setting sun painted fluffy, rolling clouds in the distance with magical brushstrokes.
Indeed, he had kissed Adriana. But she had kissed him back. A tiny smile pulled at his lips. It had been a kiss unlike any he'd ever experienced; one he'd felt in a place deep inside himself he hadn't known existed.
Adriana Mon
tague would be easy to seduce. Beneath that tough exterior, she was as innocent and naïve as a child. Perhaps a consequence of growing up sheltered as she had.
A hot bolt of remorse seared his guts. Perhaps it wasn't that she was naïve, but that he was hardened and streetwise from growing up as he had. Christian blew out an angry sigh, shrugging away a strange needling in his conscience.
He wasn't sure anymore that he wanted to destroy her happiness, as he'd originally planned. He was losing sight of his long-harbored goal; to make the Montagues pay for what they'd done to his family. Adriana Montague had befuddled his senses with that damned mystical charm of hers. Sure, he wanted to seduce her–he imagined nothing could be sweeter than a night spent in her arms. But if he wanted to ruin her marriage prospects anymore, it was only to keep her for himself.
His jaw snapped tight and he accidentally bit his own tongue. Damn! Where had that thought come from? There was no room in his life for a woman–not in any capacity. He was a loner and a thief who spent his life one step ahead of the gendarmes, and soon the Nighthawk would have an elderly father in tow as well.
He refused to allow himself the fantasy that had been pulling at his subconscious for the last week; of fitting in to her life, of changing who he was to be one of the snobbish, egocentrically asinine upper class dandies he despised so much. He wouldn't even let himself play with the thought. He hated them all...yet a small, foreign part of him wanted nothing more.
That's ridiculous, he insisted silently. I don't want to be what I despise. Yet, if he could only be something Adriana wanted...
"Let down the fore topsail, will you, Christian?" Henri's gravelly voice jarred him from his thoughts. "We're anchoring here for the night."
A small corner of the island glittered with the emerging lights of a town. "Where are we?"
"Sombrero. It's the last British isle before we enter a French-governed region. Tomorrow we'll be turning farther out to sea. We cannot risk being spotted."
Christian nodded as he went to the winch. He smacked at his neck. "These must be British islands, given the wretched insects."
Henri laughed. "Sailors used to welcome the insects and birds after a long voyage at sea. It meant they neared land."
"All it means to me is I am a meal for some awful creature." He smacked at a stinging bite on his wrist. "I hope I taste horrible."
"Don't worry, the wind is picking up," Henri told him. "It will take them away and carry us fast tomorrow. We'll be in French Guiana before you know it."
* * *
The ringing of the deck bell brought Adriana leaping from a dream. She fumbled through the darkness for her timepiece. Three a.m. Lady Luck pitched, sending her sprawling against her vanity.
Storm!
She quickly dressed in the clothes she'd draped over her chair before retiring. Mrs. Bailey stood in the hall, holding her lamp.
"What is it? Gracious me, the ship is possessed!"
"A storm has come up."
"Goodness, my heavens, are we in danger?"
Henri raced past, answering for her. "If we don't get her out of the shallows, we'll be smashed on the rocks!"
Adriana hesitated and placed a hand at Mrs. Bailey's elbow. "We shall be fine." A needling of worry pressed on her, but Henri had faced rough seas many times before and always emerged victorious. Stormy weather turned him from a sailor to a warrior, and she suspected he lived for just such adventures. "Don't worry." She forced a smile before turning to follow him topside.
"What should I do?" Mrs. Bailey called after them.
"Stay in your cabin. Secure your things," Adriana shouted as she climbed the ladder. "And be careful with that lamp!"
Chapter Fourteen
Christian fought with the block to the jib as Adriana and Henri emerged on deck.
"No, Christian, let that one out," Henri ordered. "We've got to get out to sea."
"I didn't know what to do," he shouted above the wind. "I knew it was bad when lightning struck the water off the starboard side–”
"Where is Ollie?" Henri demanded.
"There." Christian pointed. "In the rigging."
"Boy, get down. You know better than to be aloft in a storm!"
"I'm done," Ollie shouted. "Here I come."
Another wave lifted the boat. The hull shuddered as the anchor chain snapped tight.
"You did the right thing, ringing the bell," Adriana told Christian. "Even an experienced sailor shouldn't be alone on deck in a storm." She made her way to the foredeck.
"I can't get it up!" the old man yelled.
"Drop it," Ollie suggested. "We have another one."
"Yes, let it go!" Adriana rushed over and freed the bolt at the cathead. With a shrill whir, the remaining length ran through the hawse and disappeared. Lady Luck surged backward as the ferocious current took her.
Mr. Ling appeared on deck. "I help," he shouted over the wind. He and Ollie went to the portside while Adriana and Christian headed starboard.
"Fore and mainsails, up!" Henri yelled.
Christian kept in step with Adriana as she raced down the length of the deck. "Congratulations, Mr. De la Croix. You have the opportunity to prove your worth to your ship." She stopped at the main pulleys. "Foresail, ho!"
With perfect precision, they each manned the block on either side of the deck and let out the foresail, then moved on to the mainsail.
"What now?" Christian yelled. Strangely invigorated by the danger, his blood raced through his veins. It was as if the sea challenged him, and he was ready to answer.
Henri met them at the wheel. "We'll angle out to sea, north-east. We'll lose leagues, but it will take us off the reef."
"Shouldn't we head for shore?" As soon as he'd spoken, Christian remembered Edmund's entry in the logbook when they'd been held hostage by the sea only nine miles from land. "You're afraid we can't land?"
"We would be smashed to pieces," Adriana shouted. The wind whipped about loose tendrils escaped from her braid. In this light, stripped of all the opulent luxuries that marked her as a wealthy heiress, Christian saw through to the woman beneath the finery. She was striking, earthen and primal with raw beauty the storm couldn't ruffle away.
A rope snapped free near the bow and the fore studdingsail unraveled into the wind. Adriana started toward it but Christian grabbed her. "Let me. This is too dangerous for a lady."
She pulled her arm free. "You don't know how." Adriana turned to a small bin near the stern bench and pulled out a cotton rope. She secured it around her waist and hooked the clasp at the end to a wire running the center-length of the deck. He'd wondered what purpose it served–now he knew. It was a safety line.
"Go below. This is going to get worse before it gets better." She started off.
"You can't do it yourself!" Christian took another rope and secured it as he'd seen her do before following her to the fore rigging. Infuriating wench!
The pre-dawn sky had turned a strange, opaque murky gray, almost like smoke. It swallowed Adriana's form like an enveloping shroud, leaving her a colorless, seamless shadow. Waves crashed over the bow, turning the decking into a slippery floe of churning water.
Christian struggled as the safety rope caught before he figured out how to negotiate it along. He arrived behind her at the bow as Adriana heaved her weight against the loose sail. For a moment, neither winch could draw it. It felt like trying to haul a granite boulder. His muscles burned as he leaned his full weight into it. The first inch moved, and slowly it yielded.
Adriana's shoe slipped and she went down. She yelped as she landed on her elbow. He fixed the winch and reached for her.
"Let me help you," he shouted over the storm. Christian pulled her to her feet and caught her around the waist. The ship pitched, sending her staggering against his chest. Her body felt amazingly warm in contrast to the cold wind. With her in his arms, he forgot his fear of the storm.
"I can't let anything happen to you," he said into the wind. "You're my ticket to De
vil's Island."
She seemed to melt against him. Her eyes were so deeply blue they were bottomless, and for a moment he could see the future in them; a future he didn't want without her. Diamond-like droplets clung to her lashes and formed a radiant sheen on her face. With her milky white skin and sapphire eyes, she made a stunning vision in the dawn storm.
Adriana pushed away. "I am fine! Mr. Dupree and I can take care of this." When he hesitated, she pointed. "Go now. You are ahead of me on the line."
She was mad. Didn't she realize her courageous independence had limits? She couldn't fight this storm all by herself. She would be the end of them all.
When they reached the stern hatch Adriana clutched at his shirtsleeve. "Go down and help secure below deck. Mrs. Ling will tell you what to do. You too, Ollie. Henri will take the helm."
"No, I want to stay," Ollie argued.
Adriana pursed her lips and her expression hardened.
"Leave him," Henri said. "He'll be fine. It's not his first storm."
She turned back to Christian. "No arguments," she declared before he could.
He unhooked himself from the wire and pulled the safety rope over his head. When he handed it to her, he took her wrist. "Be careful, Miss Montague."
Surprise registered in her eyes. Christian reached out and pulled a strand of wet hair away from her face. The wind immediately whipped it back across her flushed cheek. Her expression softened. For a brief moment, the howling storm seemed to pause as she smiled up at him her first, genuine smile. Good God, but it was beautiful.
"Do not worry, Mr. De la Croix. I am not nearly finished vexing you yet."
He released her wrist and stepped into the hatch. Adriana moved past him and held the cotton rope out to Ollie.
"Secure yourself, and ask your uncle what he did to anger the sea."
Christian hesitated on the ladder. He could have sworn he heard...there it was again! A pitiful whine fought through the wind. He turned fore. Chauncy struggled across the slippery deck, head hung low and tail tucked between his legs. The dog liked to sleep on a pile of spare sails in the upper hold. It must have come on deck when it heard Adriana at the bow.