Destiny of the Heart (Viking Destiny)

by K. Young

  Mel quirked her brows upward. "Good heavens, do you mean to say that you are beginning to like him?"

  "Certainly not." Kristen sniffed, but then grinned. She knew better than to try and hide her feelings from Mel, and really, why should she? "Well, maybe just a little."

  "I knew it!" Mel pounced.

  "Alright, alright. You're very smart. Happy?" Kristen grouched, but only just a little.

  "Well, I think Derrick is a right side better at protecting what's his than your stepfather. Perhaps if you told him - "

  "No, I don't want him involved."

  "You're the most stubborn person I know, do you know that?" Mel crossed her arms over her chest irritably.

  "So you've told me, once or twice." Kristen stood up from the bed and stretched. As she did, several joints popped rather loudly. She looked at Mel and lifted a brow. "Mel, the last thing I need to worry about is someone coming after Derrick because of me. He is better off without me."

  Mel didn't think so, but Kristen always had this misguided notion that she needed to protect people from life. Mel thought it was because she wished she could do more to help her people, despite Kristen's assurances that she wasn't the least bit interested in reclaiming her throne. But, whatever it was, Kristen would suffer any misery she had to keep the people she loved from suffering. It was a noble quality to be sure, but Mel wanted to see her friend happy, too.

  "Well, I'll leave you to your rest for now. I must go see Mrs. Sterling about the menu for tonight." She smiled warmly at Kristen and then rushed out of the room.

  Kristen got the impression that Mel was up to something, though she couldn't quite figure out what that something might be.

  Chapter 22

  Kristen woke up as she slammed against a wall. She was confused and disoriented and suddenly felt quite nauseous. Rolling to her knees, she jerked to her left and heaved everything in her stomach all over the floor. The sick only added to her confusion because she couldn't remember feeling ill. The last thing she remembered was discussing her plans to leave London with Mel. So, where the devil was she now?

  Kristen slowly sat back down and leaned against the wall behind her, carefully avoiding the puddle of vomit next to her. She racked her brain, trying to remember. She was relatively certain she wasn't in Mel's house. Given that she was rocking, despite sitting perfectly still herself, and that she felt like throwing up again, she guessed she was on a boat. She had always been a little seasick, to her mother's chagrin, but she had never experiences anything like the roiling in her stomach now. As if on cue, the roiling in her stomach had her leaning over and retching to her side again.

  When finished, she stood up and tried to steady herself. Once she found her legs, Kristen walked slowly to the door. To her utter surprise, it was open, and she briefly wondered if it was an oversight or if she wasn't meant to be kept prisoner. No doubt someone had kidnapped her, but who the devil was it this time? Since her stepfather was dead that only left the mysterious woman. Frowning, Kristen peeked around the doorway to see if she had guards at her door. She didn't. Since she was only vaguely familiar with ships, she knew she had to go up to get to the deck. Perhaps she could convince the captain that she was there against her will and he would drop her off at the next port.

  Kristen snorted. She should be so lucky. No, she figured it was far more likely that she would have to bribe whoever had kidnapped her. If it was the mystery woman, Kristen had no idea just how deep those pockets ran, but she was willing to bet not as deep as Kristen's since the woman was being paid to kill her. Her stomach roiled again, and she knew she didn't have time to think about it anymore. She closed the door behind her softly and then crept up the stairs, slowly and quietly. Just before she reached the top, a surly voice reached her from the bottom.

  “'Ere now, what are ye doing on board? Mighty ba d luck ter 'ave a woman on board the ship.”

  Kristen squinted down at the man below, though she couldn't see him very well as he was in shadows. “I don't recall how I came to be on this ship, sir. I do believe there's been some mistake.”

  “Aye, and the cap'n will be wanting ter sort it out. Ye'll 'ave to come w' me.”

  “No, I think I should go directly to your captain.”

  “'e's 'aving his supper 'e is and must not be disturbed, ye ken? Better ye wait in the brig.”

  “I most certainly will not!” She said indignantly, stamping her foot for good measure.

  The man was not impressed and began moving in her direction slowly. “Look lady, no need fer trouble, ye hear?” He said as he lunged and tried to grab her.

  Kristen grabbed his hand and bent his thumb back, swung her leg behind his knees to knock him down, and then smashed her elbow into his temple, knocking him

  unconscious. She watched as he slid down the stairs and laid still at the bottom. Leaving him there, she continued the rest of the way up the stairs to the deck. She looked around hesitantly and assessed the situation. There weren't many men on deck, but as she looked around, there was nothing but ocean around them. Whoever had taken her must have done so last night. But, as she tried to figure out what to do about it, her stomach lurched. She ran to the railing and leaned over to throw up.

  ***

  Derrick sat in his cabin pushing his food around, not quite paying attention to what Jack was saying.

  "- and she told m'father that she was rather proud I was at sea. Derrick, are you listening?" Jack asked, noticing Derrick's lack of attention.

  "Sorry, what was that?" Derrick asked, looking up from his plate.

  "Are you feeling alright?"

  "Course, what makes you think I'm not?"

  Jack lifted a brow. “The fact that you're not listening isn't much of a concern, when do you ever?” That got him a sour look from Derrick. “But, since when do you apologize for not listening?”

  Derrick stared at his friend for a moment and then burst out laughing. Jack thought he had probably gone mad.

  "I guess I'm a bit distracted is all." Derrick said, still not touching the food on his plate.

  "How did Kristen take the news of your trip?"

  "Seems she will be doing some traveling of her own, so I doubt she cared."

  "Of course she cares. You're a bloody idiot if you think she doesn't."

  "She's refused me at every turn, and she is nothing but argumentative."

  "Sounds like someone else I know."

  Derrick glowered. "Anyway, it's better this way. If she gets married, well then perhaps I'll get lucky and she won't love him. If she doesn't -"

  "Then what? Hmm? You'll marry her yourself because that's what you should have done to begin with."

  Derrick looked at Jack in confusion. "What's gotten into you?"

  "Nothing." Jack dropped his fork in irritation.

  Derrick eyed him warily, but didn't say anything further on the subject, not sure what to make of Jack's outburst. But, he didn't have time to contemplate it further as there was a loud crash outside the cabin door. They turned to look at the door.

  “Bloody hell, Jack. Do you always have to pick the ruffians that feel the need to fight amongst themselves?”

  He got up and stomped toward the door but heard another loud crash and a grunt on the other side before he reached it. Derrick swung the door open, a thundering black scowl on his face, and stepped over the man lying at his door. He jogged up the stairs thinking he would merely put a stop to a stupid fight, but what greeted him when he got to the top took his breath away and made his heart stop. Kristen was on the deck, her gown half ripped off and hair flying wildly in the wind. Blood was smeared on her face and arms where she had been attacked by his men. She was half crazed with fear, and she looked a little green to boot.

  Cold, hard anger gnawed at Derrick's stomach. He walked toward the man circling her with every intention of ripping his head off. She wouldn't be able to fend off any more attacks in the condition she was in, and they all knew it. Jack grabbed Derrick's arm, knowing if he
didn't calm Derrick down, every one of the crew members would be dead.

  “Derrick, they don't know who she is, only that she's on board and she isn't supposed to be. They're just doing their job.”

  “Not bloody good enough.” Derrick growled low and jerked his arm from Jack's grasp.

  Jack sighed. “I didn't think it would be.”

  As soon as Kristen finished throwing up, there was another man at her side wanting to take her to the brig. She fought the man off, but it had only caused the rest of the crew to come to his aid. She was attacked by several swarthy looking characters all at once, and as she was now, she didn't have the strength to face even one more. She was certain they would kill or rape her if she gave in, so she was determined to stand her ground. Blood was pouring from her head where someone had hit her with a bucket, her lip was busted, nose bleeding, and she probably had a good number of broken bones, too. She was sure she broke her knuckles with the last fellow she hit. He was pretty solidly built.

  The one circling her now was rather small in comparison, but that didn't relieve her mind any. She was a prime example of how size in that capacity could be deceiving. But, it seemed the little man got tired of stalking her from afar and moved in for the first strike. Kristen's eyes flared with the realization that he was going to hit her because she simply couldn't move. She braced herself mentally for the pain, and closed her eyes, squeezing them shut. But, the hit never came. Instead she heard a whelp and a long string of curses, then the little man groaned as he hit what was probably one of the masts. She opened her eyes to find out what had happened and relief poured through her instantly.

  “Derrick.” She whispered as she collapsed from exhaustion.

  Derrick caught her and lifted her his in arms. He turned to face the men of his crew who were in various states of pain themselves. His expression told them they were in serious trouble.

  “Each of you that had a hand in this will be let off at the next port. It's either that, or I kill you. Take your pick. For the duration of that time, if you so much as look at the lady wrong, I'll kill you anyway. Do I make myself clear?” He waited briefly for their nod and then left.

  Every man there knew that Derrick meant every word. They had each been involved in trying to apprehend the lady, so they were henceforth on their best behavior to avoid notice and not stir the captain's ire. Derrick Shane paid his men well, but when he was required to deal with them in a disciplinary fashion, he was rumored to be the devil himself. Not one of the crewmen wanted to find out.

  Derrick slammed into his cabin and yelled for the cabin boy as he lay Kristen gently on his bed. The cabin boy entered and bowed.

  “Eli, I need a fresh bucket of water, another plate of food, and some wash cloths and towels. Also, arrange to have buckets heated and brought in for a bath. And, see if there are any dresses still on board.” The boy nodded and left to do his bidding. Derrick had traveled with his lady friend's before and probably had something that they could use until he could get Kristen her own dresses. For now, though, he needed to clean her off and assess the damage that had been done.

  He frowned. There was a lot of blood covering her, and there was also the matter of how she came to be on his ship. He couldn't say that he wasn't happy to see her as she had occupied his thoughts a good deal since leaving London. But, it was obvious she wasn't there by choice, and at the moment, she didn't look so good. It would take time to sort out which injuries were recent, and which she sustained from her previous kidnapping. That line of thought stilled his hand and he looked at her.

  Kristen had been through more than any woman should have to bear. He didn't know the secrets of her life, but he was willing to bet that whatever they were, they couldn't be good. It was as if someone wanted her dead, at least from the first kidnapping. This one seemed calculated to Derrick, more like someone trying to shove the two of them together. He grinned. Mel. He would have to remember to hug her when he saw her next. The woman was tenacious in her matchmaking attempts, and Derrick was certain that when Kristen awoke, she would agree Mel was the most likely culprit in this kidnapping.

  Derrick gently brushed Kristen's hair back from her face while he waited for his cabin boy to return. At last, the items he requested were delivered, and he tapped his foot impatiently as he waited until the tub was full of warm water. When the bath was ready, he lifted Kristen from the bed so Eli could quickly change the sheets, and left Eli to do the rest of the picking up.

  Derrick's attention was on Kristen. It was a rare occurrence that he got to undress a woman for reasons other than sexual need, so he was careful not to wake her as he undressed her. He lowered her into the warm water and bathed the blood from her body, taking care not to hurt her any further. As he washed her hair, he searched her body for other injuries. As far as he could tell, the swollen eye was from the previous kidnapping, but she had a broken rib, and it was protruding from under her left breast. He would have to wrap it tightly so it could mend.

  Her knuckles were swollen and bruised from the abuse, but all in all, she was a lot better off than he feared. Most of the blood didn't appear to be hers, and what was hers came from the head wound, though even that had stopped bleeding. He should probably have the ship's physician look at it to be sure, but he didn't think any of her injuries would prove fatal. Though he was concerned that she seemed so pale.

  After rinsing her hair, he took her from the bath and wrapped her in a towel, drying her as gently as he could. Once she was dry, he found his wrap and began tightly winding it under her breasts. He decided it was better to leave the head wound unwrapped until the physician had a look at it, but he tended to her other more minor wounds as he could. Kristen moaned but didn't open her eyes. The fact that he had done all he had thus far, and she hadn't woken up, concerned him.

  She was strong, much stronger than any other woman he had known, but she had a nasty head wound, not to mention she was still recovering from her last ordeal. And, when she did wake up, she would be in one hell of a mood. Of course, at least then he would know she was alright. It was the not knowing that was driving him mad. So, to help keep his mind busy, he dressed her in a simple cotton night gown and laid her gently on his bed against the pillows, wrapping her in warm blankets to keep the chill out.

  With nothing else to do but wait, he began pacing his cabin. His large frame felt restricted in the confines of the cabin, but he refused to leave her side. A knock sounded at his door, and he sighed.

  “Come in, Jack.” He called.

  Jack walked in. For once there was a serious look on his face. Derrick could be grateful for small favors, he supposed.

  “How is she?” Jacked asked, concerned.

  “She has a broken rib for sure. I've wrapped it, but she hasn't woken up so I can't tell if she's well otherwise. She took quite a beating from those men, Jack. There was a lot of blood. What kind of men do we hire that would beat up a woman, a LADY no less?”

  Jack shrugged. “They do what we pay them to do.”

  “What kind of men does that make us?” Derrick asked softly, returning his gaze to Kristen.

  “This wasn't your fault, you know. You didn't know she was on board.” At Derrick's noncommittal grunt, Jack continued. “I talked to Nino. He was the first one to see her and reported that she said she didn't remember how she came to be on the ship. Someone brought her here without her knowledge. The best thing we can do is make sure she's comfortable for the time being, and when she does wake up, find out what she remembers. Maybe we can figure out what the bloody hell is going on.”

  “I'm pretty sure I know how she got here.” Derrick replied softly, still watching over Kristen.

  "How's that?" Jack asked in surprise.

  "Mel and Oliver. Mel's been playing matchmaker lately, and she would need Oliver to carry Kristen.

  Jack frowned. "Well, at least we know she's safe for the time being."

  Derrick nodded, though he didn't say any more on the matter.

&nbs
p; “And Derrick?” Jack said as he turned toward the door. “Stay away from the crew until your temper has calmed down. If you want to replace them, fine. But, I can't run an entire ship by myself while you're in here with her.” He left Derrick to his ministrations.

  Derrick knew Jack was right. Given his present mood, he would wipe the floor with anyone he even suspected was involved in hurting Kristen. So, he stayed in his cabin as his friend suggested. He sat there by the bed for the longest time, just watching her. When she finally did move, he was beside her instantly, hoping she would wake up.

  “Kristen, come on sweetheart. Wake up. Can you hear me?” He looked at her intently as her eyes fluttered open.

  She looked at him for a moment, confusion on her face, and then winced. That green look came back, then she rolled to the side of the bed and vomited at Derrick's feet. He jumped back and swore.

  “Bloody hell!” He grouched.

  When she couldn't heave anymore, she rolled back over and was unconscious again.

  Chapter 23

  Kristen woke, but kept her eyes closed as she lay perfectly still, taking stock. Every muscle in her body was screaming, her eyes felt as if something had been shoved through them, and any movement she made sent pain flooding through her entire body. Even breathing was difficult. She tried to sit up, but that caused her head to swim and made her want to throw up. She leaned over and felt her stomach attempt to empty its contents, but all she managed was a dry heave that left her throat aching. She wondered how long she had been asleep. As exhausted as she still was, she figured it couldn't have been long. As she lay on the bed trying to find her balance, she looked at her surroundings.

  She was in a comfortable room. The bed and all the other furnishings had been bolted to the floor so as not to move around when the ship rocked. They were lavish furnishings, too. The bed was a large four poster with silk sheets and matching comforter. A chair with plush pillows in an oriental design sat by the small window the cabin offered. Next to it was a table with a lamp. Behind that was a small book shelf. And, in the middle of the room was a dining table and four chairs. Simple wood design, yet elegant in its carvings. All in all, she wouldn't be surprised if the room belonged to a lord. She just couldn't remember what happened and why she was there.