Surrender the Sea

by Marylu Tyndall

  ♦♦♦

  Marianne could not stop trembling. And not because her gown was wet. They were sinking. And once again she would be thrust into the merciless sea.

  Blackthorn called for Daniel. The lad squeezed her hand then darted to his father.

  “Come below, dear. Let’s get you into some dry attire.” Agnes tugged on her wet sleeve but Marianne remained firm.

  “Please, I don’t want to go below if we are to sink.” Her lips quivered making her words come out harsh.

  “No, of course, dear.” Despite her calm tone, Agnes trembled when she wrapped an arm around Marianne’s shoulder. “What a horrible ordeal you’ve been through. Just horrible. I prayed for you every night.”

  Turning, Marianne hugged the woman, taking comfort from her warm embrace. “Thank you, Agnes. God answered your prayers.”

  Agnes withdrew and stared across the sea. “I hope the Almighty answers the prayer I’m makin’ now.” She sighed and forced a smile. “Well, the least I can do is get you a blanket. That is, if the water has not reached my cabin yet.” She buzzed away and dropped below deck.

  Hugging herself, Marianne slipped into the shadows. Her eyes latched on Noah. He marched confidently across the ship issuing orders and encouragements to his men. His brown hair dripped onto his collar. His white shirt clung to a muscled torso still heaving from exertion.

  He had come for her.

  He had risked his life for her. And now faced with another crisis, he handled himself with such assurance, such wisdom, such bravery.

  Marianne swallowed the burning in her throat. Because of her, his ship was sinking. Because of her, he would lose everything... possibly even his life.

  But God had been faithful thus far.

  Lord, I trusted you. I dove into the waters. And You didn’t let me drown. Now, please don’t allow us to sink.

  With lanterns hanging on every mast hook and railing, the ship lit up like a tree at Christmas.

  Sails snapped overhead, bursting with wind like bloated specters. Yet the vessel slogged through the water as if pushing through black molasses. Trembling, Marianne inched her way to the railing. If they were going to sink, she would face the waters with the same bravery Noah displayed.

  The ravenous waves slapped the hull just a few feet below her. Yet strangely, she felt no fear. She thought of the frightful dream she’d had not long ago where she’d been aboard a sinking ship while all her friends sailed away leaving her alone. Now she realized it was a trick of the enemy to discourage her. She was indeed aboard a sinking ship, but she was not alone. No one had left her, especially not God. She leaned over and examined the waves again. The sea gurgled and spit and carried on like an insolent child. She laughed. Why had she ever been afraid of it? With God’s help and Noah’s strong back, she had crossed these waters and survived. If she sank in them now, God would bring her home to heaven. The sea would not hold her captive for long. In fact, as she watched the foam-capped ebony waves, she saw them as nothing but slippery fingers always reaching, grabbing, threatening, but ultimately powerless.

  The musky scent of Noah surrounded her. Her heart leapt. He stood beside her, his hair and breeches still dripping. Lantern light glimmered in his eyes as they soaked her in from head to toe.

  She wanted to throw herself into his arms. To thank him. To tell him she loved him. But before she could, he pressed her head to his chest and covered her other ear with his hand.

  The boom of a single gun thundered through the ship. Timbers shook and creaked. Marianne felt the reverberations through Noah’s strong arms. Strong arms that seemed to filter out the fear. She wished he’d never let go.

  The sting of gunpowder burned her nose as smoke enveloped them.

  Batting it away, Noah released her. She grew cold again.

  Both gazed toward the Constitution.

  The entire crew gazed toward the Constitution.

  Waiting. . .waiting. . .The sea laughed at them as it broke against their hull.

  Had the men aboard heard them? Did they see them? Did they care?

  A jet of orange light came in reply, followed by a boom that cracked the night sky.

  “They’ve spotted us. We are saved!”

  Chapter 31

  With Seafoam nestled in her arms, Marianne followed the tall, lithe lieutenant down the passageway. Below deck, the Constitution was not much different from the Undefeatable. Narrow, dank hallways lit by intermittent lanterns stretched into the murky shadows. Small, cluttered cabins lined the hull, and the smell of bilge and unwashed men permeated every plank and timber.

  But there was one glorious difference.

  The Constitution was an American ship, not an enemy. And here, Marianne was a guest, not a prisoner. For she’d been treated with nothing but courtesy since she had boarded last night.

  In fact, within minutes of spotting them, the Constitution had come alongside and quickly dispatched two boats to deliver Noah and his crew from the sinking ship. But no sooner had Marianne’s feet hit the deck than she and Agnes, were rushed below to the cabin normally occupied by the ship’s master, John Alwyn, who’d been wounded during the battle. There, the two ladies were given hammocks to sleep in, basins of water for washing, and hot tea to soothe their nerves.

  Though the hammock was comfortable, Marianne found no sleep during the long night. Her mind kept replaying the harrowing events of the past few days. Stealing the knife, cutting the tiller ropes, crawling out the stern windows, Noah risking his life for her, her dive into the sea, and their ultimate rescue. She thanked the Lord over and over for His faithfulness until tears of joy streamed down her cheeks onto the coverlet.

  God had told her to trust Him. He had told her to jump. And even though everything within her screamed in protest, she had obeyed. And God had saved her—saved her straight into Noah’s arms.

  Yet she’d not seen Noah since. Or any of his crew. In fact, she’d hardly spoken a word to Noah since she dove into the sea. How she longed to feel his arms around her again, to look into his eyes. . .to find out whether he had come back for her out of a sense of duty, honor, or because of something deeper—something that made her heart leap for joy.

  Agnes’s heavy footsteps thudded behind her, bringing her back to the present. Marianne glanced over her shoulder. A huge smile broke the elderly woman’s face even as her puffy cheeks pinked. She appeared as flustered as Marianne felt. For neither woman knew why they had been summoned to the captain’s cabin so early in the morning.

  Marianne’s stomach tightened around the biscuit she’d eaten for breakfast. She scratched Seafoam beneath her chin. Had something else gone wrong? But when they reached the end of the passageway, deep voices and laughter echoed through the bulkhead, settling her nerves.

  Especially since one of the voices was Noah’s.

  Nodding toward the marine who stood guard outside the captain’s cabin, the lieutenant knocked. Upon hearing the captain’s “enter,” he swung open the door, ducked beneath the frame, and beckoned the ladies forward.

  Marianne took a step inside and swept the room with her gaze. A blast of wind swirled around her from the broken stern windows. The scent of scorched wood burned her nose. Black soot and ashes covered the deck and the charred remains of what looked like a cabinet, two chairs and a mahogany desk had been shoved into the corner. Everything else, however, appeared intact. In addition to a few placards, lanterns, and a row of swords, only a single painting of George Washington decorated the bulkheads.

  Noah, Luke, and Weller stood at attention before a tall, portly man dressed in white breeches and a dark blue jacket, crowned at the shoulders with gold-fringed epaulets. Matthew, Daniel, and Blackthorn stood behind them while a row of officers lined the aft bulkhead.

  Agnes darted to her husband. Wrapping an arm around her, Matthew drew her close.

  Seafoam leapt from Marianne’s arms and sprang toward Noah.

  “Ah, there is the lady of honor.” The tall man Marianne assumed
to be the captain approached her.

  Halting, Marianne watched as he bowed slightly and offered her his elbow.

  “Captain,” Noah’s voice send a warm tremble through her. “May I present, Miss Marianne Denton. Miss Denton, Captain Isaac Hull.”

  “Miss Denton.” Stylish brown hair curled around his forehead as his dark, intelligent eyes found hers.

  “Captain.” She smiled, placed her hand in the crook of his elbow and allowed him to lead her forward.

  Luke winked at her as they passed.

  “Hi, Miss Marianne.” Daniel waved.

  She smiled at the lad.

  Noah’s gaze met hers. A mischievous twinkle flickered across his blue eyes. Aside from a few bruises on his face and the dark circles of exhaustion beneath his eyes, he looked well, commanding—handsome.

  “I see your cabin suffered during the battle,” Marianne said.

  “You see correctly, Miss Denton.” The captain released her arm and surveyed the damage. “The Guerriere’s bow guns played havoc with my new desk. Alas, but Mr. Hoffmann”—he gestured toward the man who had led her and Agnes here, and who now stood at attention by the door—“saved the day and put out the fire.”

  The man smiled at Marianne.

  “However, Miss Denton.” Captain Hull faced her. “It is my understanding that I have you to thank for disabling the HMS Undefeatable.” He laughed. “Undefeatable, humph. I believe they should rename their ship.”

  One of the officers chuckled.

  “I did nothing, really,” Marianne said.

  “Did you or did you not cut the ship’s tiller cables?”

  “I did, sir.”

  “Then you are a heroine.”

  Marianne flinched. “Me? I believe it was Mr. Brenin who shot out her mast.”

  Noah smiled, saying, “A feat I was only able to perform due to your action, Miss Denton.” Seafoam circled his legs, rubbing against them.

  So it was Miss Denton again. Marianne twisted the ring on her finger. “I was happy to do my part, Captain.”

  “Your part?” He chuckled, sending the golden fringe on his epaulets shaking. “Egad, she is a treasure.” He shared a look with Noah. “You disabled a British frigate, miss. A feat many a man has never achieved, yet you are a lone woman. I find your humility refreshing.”

  Marianne felt a blush rising and lowered her gaze. “God was with me.”

  “Ah yes. God was with us all.” The captain adjusted his coat “Those redcoats would have blasted us from the sea, entangled as we were with that infernal Guerriere.”

  “I love my country, sir. I could do no less.” Marianne lifted her gaze to Daniel. “It was my destiny.”

  She sent a glance to Daniel who beamed. His father patted him on the back.

  “Destiny.” The captain cocked his head, then paced before Noah and his crew. “I like the sound of that. I like the sound of that, indeed.” He halted and adjusted his white cravat around his fleshy chin. Despite the long, pointed nose that reminded Marianne of a cannon, the captain possessed a friendly face that seemed at odds with his commanding position.

  He squared his shoulders. “Then it was God’s destiny that we are the first American ship to defeat a British man-of-war. And those pompous redcoats thought they ruled the seas. Egad.” He fisted his hand in the air. “We taught them a lesson.” He took up pacing again.

  His officers murmured their agreement from behind Noah and his men.

  “Humph. And to think they were saying in Washington and all up and down our coastline that our amateur navy did not stand a chance against the expertise, the experience and sheer power of the British Royal navy.” He chuckled, his eyes sparkling. He stopped again. “Do you know what this will do?” He asked no one in particular. “This will give great encouragement to our fleet! We have proven that the British Navy is not invincible. Not only that, this victory will no doubt prompt Washington to increase our funding for more ships and weaponry. Aye, this is good news. This battle may turn the tide of the war before it has barely begun.”

  As Marianne listened to the captain’s speech, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in her part of the battle. If what Captain Hull said was true and this defeat would lead to more victories at sea, then God had used her for something truly important. Little, ordinary Marianne from Baltimore.

  Reaching down, Daniel picked up Seafoam and began petting her.

  “How many men did you lose, Captain?” Noah asked.

  A fresh breeze whirled in through the broken window, stirring flakes of charred wood across the deck. Captain Hull released a sigh, heavy with sorrow. “Seven. One marine, five seaman and Lieutenant William Bush. All good men.” He glanced over his officers who stood at attention in the back of the cabin. “Heroes.”

  They nodded in agreement.

  “You are all heroes,” the captain continued, and Marianne got the impression he loved to hear himself talk. “And you.” He stopped and pointed at Noah. “You would make a great officer in the US navy. I shall be happy to write a letter of recommendation to Madison and request a commission for you.”

  An officer in the Navy? Marianne eyed Noah. Now that his merchant business had sunk—thanks to her—would he take the man up on his offer?

  But he seemed unaffected. “Thank you, Captain. I am honored to have one so distinguished as yourself willing to stand up for me. Allow me some time to consider it.”

  “Very well. Take your time, Mr. Brenin. I am in your debt.”

  “And what of you?” The captain narrowed his eyes on Luke.

  Luke’s lips slanted. “Me? In the navy?” He raised his hand to cover a cough that Marianne could tell was more of laugh.

  Noah smiled.

  Weller chuckled.

  Luke shifted his stance. “I fear I am not a man who thrives under authority.”

  Captain Hull studied him. He let out a disgruntled moan. “Regardless, I am in your debt as well.”

  “If I may call on that debt, Captain,” Noah said, drawing the captain’s gaze. “My crew and I would be most grateful if you could deliver us to Baltimore at your earliest convenience.”

  “Can we go see Mother?” Daniel tugged on his father’s torn, stained shirt.

  Noah glanced at them, then back at the captain. “By way of Savannah, perhaps?”

  The captain fingered his chin.

  Marianne’s heart skipped at the possibility of seeing her mother and sister again soon.

  A uniformed man tapped on the doorframe. “Captain, they are signaling from the Guerriere that they’re ready to bring the remainder of the prisoners aboard.”

  “Thank you, Lowe.” Captain Hull studied Noah, then released a heavy sigh. “Jones’s locker be cursed. I think we can manage it. Perhaps”—he chuckled—“God will find it in His destiny to send us another British warship to defeat along the way.”

  Daniel nestled Seafoam against his cheek and smiled up at his father. The look on Blackthorn’s face slowly melted into one of joy. His eyes moistened, and Marianne swallowed the emotion burning in her throat. Finally, after two years, the man would be reunited with his wife.

  Agnes kissed her husband’s cheek and Luke and Weller smiled at Noah.

  “Excellent.” The captain slapped his hands together. “Gentlemen.” He glanced over Marianne and Agnes. “Ladies, if you’ll excuse me.”

  And he marched from the cabin.

  ♦♦♦

  Marianne stood at the bow of the USS Constitution, away from the hustle of the crew, and gazed at the crippled Guerriere listing to larboard several yards ahead of them. After their meeting in the captain’s cabin, Agnes retired to her cabin with a headache, and Noah and his men darted off to assist Captain Hull in retrieving the remaining British sailors from the defeated ship.

  One casual glance and a smile was all Noah had offered Marianne as he left the cabin. Not much to go on. Not much of an indication of where his heart lay. She longed to know what he was thinking. She longed to thank hi
m for risking his life for her, for keeping his word. And deep down, she longed to know if he cared for her as much as she did him.

  Shielding her eyes from the afternoon sun, she scanned the horizon. No sign of the HMS Undefeatable. No doubt she drifted away during the night at the mercy of wind and tide and would continue to do so until the crew repaired the tiller and the mast. Thoughts of Captain Milford saddened her. She had come to care for the old curmudgeon, who despite his foul moods and maniacal episodes, had been kind to Marianne—even complimentary. She hoped, no she prayed, he would find his way to land and live out his days as a farmer.

  A gust of wind danced through her hair and brought with it the smell of gunpowder, the sea, and charred wood. Leaning over the railing, she glanced at the blue waves frolicking against the hull. She chuckled. She was no longer frightened of the water. No longer frightened of anything.

  Except spending her life without Noah.

  Would they simply return to Baltimore, end their engagement, and go their separate ways? Without a ship, without a merchant business to fund, Noah had no reason to please his father with a forced marriage, especially since he now knew the true state of the Denton fortune. After Noah explained it to his father, the man would no doubt agree to call off the marriage. Then Marianne would have to find another way to care for her sick mother and her sister.

  Yet that pain was nothing compared to the gnawing ache of losing Noah.

  A light touch on the small of her back caused a flutter in her belly. Noah’s warm breath fanned her neck. “Marianne.” Shivers tingled down her back.

  She turned her head. His blue eyes caressed her face. His lips lingered just inches from hers. She swallowed and faced forward, her heart in her throat.

  He slipped beside her, keeping his hand on her back. “You are no longer afraid of the sea?”

  His brown hair whipped behind him. She longed to run her fingers over the stubble on his firm jaw.

  “No. I believe the Lord has cured me.” She gave a little laugh.

  “Would that He had done so before you nearly drowned us both.” He huffed, his voice ringing with playful annoyance.