by Unknown
The ship heaved and groaned like some huge beast in its final death throes, then lurched drunkenly upon its side and went still. For perhaps a split second, though that fraction of time seemed frozen, there was an equally deafening silence, where nothing intruded save the roar of wind and crashing surf. Then pandemonium broke loose, and the sound of running feet above, hoarse yells, shrill screams of pain, and cries for help erupted into a deafening clamor as the ship came to life in the aftermath of disaster.
Adrian heaved himself to his feet with an effort and scrambled across the crazily tilted cabin to where Danielle lay crumpled in a heap against the bulkhead, pulling her into his arms while he carefully tested her for broken bones. He found none, but an unsightly purple knot the size of a robin's egg marred her forehead, and a trickle of blood, glaringly bright against her ashen face, seeped from the corner of her lips. "Danielle?" he rasped hoarsely, a sharp stab of fear knifing through his chest.
Her eyelids fluttered. She looked up at him dazedly for a moment, closed her eyes once more, and lifted her hand to her throbbing head, attempting to sit up.
"Be still," Adrian said, his voice sharp with concern, and she subsided, opening her eyes to stare up at him.
"I'm all right," she said in a reedy voice, then winced and touched her cut lip cautiously. "Stunned me, that's all."
"You don't look all right," Adrian said, frowning down at her worriedly. "I think you'd best lie still a moment longer."
"Thanks a hell of a lot," Danielle snapped. "You don't look so bleedin' luvly yourself. An' I'd say, from the way you're shakin', you're the one that oughta by lyin' down," she added in sudden concern, fearing that the tremor she felt in him might denote a dangerous weakness and that the strain she saw in his ashen face might indicate pain he was trying to hide from her.
Adrian realized then that he was indeed shaking, with relief, and irritation replaced his concern. "God damn it, Danny! If you don't stop spouting profanity every time you open your mouth, I'm going to turn you over my knee and give you a spanking you won't soon forget!"
Danielle wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, grinned impishly, and sat up. "That's the ticket, gov'nor! Had me worried for a minute there, you did. Thought maybe you had it in mind to kick off on me. Heart failure or somethin' like that. A feeble ol' gentleman like yourself oughta be careful about them things, you know."
Adrian glared at her, his eyes narrowing. "I may strangle you instead," he said coolly. "It appears to me that that might be the only way to keep your tongue from rattling, but I'm afraid it will have to wait since we appear to be sinking."
Danielle paled slightly but forced a crooked grin. "Sounds kinda permanent. I think I like the idea of you playin' with me arse better."
Despite their situation, Adrian felt a tug of amusement. "That isn't exactly what I had in mind, but I'll admit it does sound intriguing," he said, rising stiffly and pulling her to her feet before he moved away to scratch through his belongings and arm himself, knowing he might well have to fight for a place for himself and Danielle in the long boat.
The cabin was tilted at such a sharp angle that they had some difficulty reaching the companionway. Once there, the muffled cries that had been filtering through the adjoining bulkheads resolved itself into the hysterical wailing of a woman's voice. Adrian gave Danielle a slight push in the direction of the companionway and turned towards Lavinia's cabin, wrenching open the door and forcing it inward. He retreated a step as the foul stench of upended chamber pot and stale vomit rose to his nostrils but took a gulp of clean air and forged onward.
Lavinia fell upon his chest in hysterical relief, clinging with such determination that he found it impossible to wrench her loose. Her eyes wild with terror, she clawed at him frantically, and it was only by an effort of will that he quelled the desire to slap her senseless as he struggled to subdue her flailing arms.
"Didn't take the storm none to well," Danielle observed dispassionately from the door, and he whirled towards her angrily.
"I told you to get above decks," he roared furiously.
Her jaw set stubbornly. "I'll go when you go," she snapped, then turned to survey the ruins of the cabin. Yvette lay in a heap in one corner, and she scrambled quickly across the cabin. Her head lay at an odd angle, and Danielle knew even before she touched her friend that she was dead. Tears blurred her eyes as she stared down at Yvette for a long moment, and finally she reached to straighten her head, sniffing dolefully. "Stupid frog," she muttered under her breath. "You shoulda stayed where you belonged." She blinked rapidly, then brushed her hand across her eyes to wipe the tears from them and turned to look at Adrian over her shoulder. "She's dead," she said huskily, trying desperately to sound indifferent.
Adrian nodded grimly, wishing he could comfort her, but he feared he would be forced to knock Lavinia unconscious to subdue her again if he released her. And as exasperated as he was, he had no desire to have to resort to that. "We'd best go now," he said sharply, moving towards the door with some difficulty since Lavinia still clung to him like a limpet, wailing so hysterically that Danielle was tempted to land her a facer. She glared at the older woman as they struggled along the tilting companionway.
"Stupid cow," she muttered under her breath, and Lavinia, hearing her, went rigid, raising her head from Adrian's chest to glare back at her. "I expect she'd shut her mouth right quick if you'd give her a sharp slap."
"Shut up, Danny," Adrian snapped irritably. "Gentlemen do not strike ladies!" He was relieved, however, to see that Danielle's scathing remarks seemed to have had the effect of quieting Lavinia.
Danielle sent him a level look, and Adrian flushed uncomfortably, remembering that he'd threatened to strike Danielle with far less provocation. The implication was obvious. Except that it was a false one, one that he couldn't, at present, explain. "I ain't no gentleman," she said. "I'd be happy to do it for you."
The idea was extremely tempting. However, in Lavinia's present condition, she might very well forget that she was supposed to be a lady. And while he felt Danielle could hold her own, they couldn't spare the time to find out. "No," he said finally, somewhat regretfully. In light of his earlier asinine remark, it might have relieved Danielle's feelings somewhat. And he didn't care for the fact that he was giving the appearance of protecting a 'delicate lady' when he would've preferred spending his energies protecting Danielle, but it could not be helped and might be explained later if they managed to get off the ship in one piece.
"Well, she ain't hurt none. An' she's gonna get us all killed if she don't quit caterwaulin' and move her fat, pampered arse! You can't tote her outta here with her fightin' like a she cat with her tail caught in a wringer," Danielle snapped, incensed.
She wasn't altogether certain whether it was jealousy of the woman or the fear that Adrian would get himself killed trying to save the damn fool that made her so furious, but she was resentful nonetheless. One would think to hear the stupid cow screech, that she was the only one on board who was scared silly.
She sniffed again and glanced back towards the cabin where Yvette lay, wishing with sudden vehemence that it was the widow Johnson laying there with a broken neck instead of her friend. A sharp stab of superstitious fear smote her then, and she quickly offered up a prayer of contrition. "It oughtn't be Yvette, that's all," she muttered as she struggled up the tilting companionway.
A sharp gust of wind, rain, and stinging sea spray struck her as she reached the deck and very nearly sent her tumbling back down the companionway. She grabbed frantically for the railing, her heart leaping to her throat, and felt a hand grip her wrist, giving her a sharp jerk. She stumbled forward, felt Adrian's strong arms envelope her, and they both went down, sliding across the slippery deck of the listing ship until they came to an abrupt, painful halt against the bulwarks. "Are you all right?" Adrian shouted above the roar of the wind and surf.
Danielle nodded, rubbing her abused poster
ior as she climbed to her feet and clung to the bulwarks for support while Adrian struggled back up the deck to help Lavinia. He had to pry her loose from the mast she clung to and was breathing heavily with exertion when he reached Danielle again. They made their way slowly towards the small knot of seamen that stood by the gangway, shouting and gesticulating in an effort to be heard above the storm. The captain broke off and glanced up as they reached him.
"We've run aground," he shouted, pointing towards a misshapen mass, a slightly deeper darkness edged by a faint ribbon of pale white in the distance, almost completely obscured by the swirling mists of rain and salty spray from the churning sea. "Ship's breaking up. I'm afraid we'll have to swim for it unless we can make it to the long boat," he added, pointing towards the boat that had been torn loose from its moorings by the crash and dropped to the sea far below them, bobbing up and down on the waves and bucking madly against the single rope that still held it.
"How far?" Adrian shouted back at him, gesturing towards the distant shoreline.
The captain shrugged. "Quarter of a mile, I'd guess, maybe more."
Adrian turned to survey Danielle and Lavinia, realizing that their chances were slim to none if they couldn't capture the long boat. It was doubtful that either of them could swim. Danielle might well make it if something could be found that would keep her afloat. Lavinia's heavy skirts would drag her under the moment she touched the water. He nodded grimly. "It'll have to be the long boat then. Is there anyone else on board?"
The captain shook his head. "I already gave the order to abandon ship. Everyone who wasn't killed when the hull caved in jumped right after we went aground."
"We'll need rope to lower the boy and Mrs. Johnson over the side," Adrian said and turned and made his way back along the slippery deck. He returned minutes later with a heavy coil over his shoulder and discovered that the seamen had scrambled down the side of the ship and were struggling to reach the long boat. In a few moments, they had tumbled over its low sides and set the oars, trying to maneuver the boat closer to the ship.
"Take the lad and go," the captain yelled, reaching for the rope that tethered the long boat to the ship. "Help them hold her steady, and I'll lower the lady over the side to you."
Adrian shook his head. "You'll be of more help in the long boat than I would," he shouted, uncoiling the length of rope and quickly forming a knotted loop. After staring at him a moment, the captain moved to the side of the ship, grasped the rope, and began to lower himself to the roiling sea below. "Luck to you, my lord," he shouted as he disappeared from view.
"Now you, Danny," Adrian shouted, motioning her towards him.
Danielle merely gaped at him, her face perfectly white, her dark eyes huge in her pale face. She shook her head slowly.
"Damn it, Danielle! This is no time to go missish on me!" Adrian shouted in exasperation, wondering with a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach if he was now to have two hysterical women on his hands, his consternation such that he was oblivious to the fact that he'd given Danielle's identity away. Thus, he didn't notice Lavinia's sudden attention as her head snapped up, and she gaped at Danielle in stunned incredulity.
Her eyes narrowed, her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides. So that was it! she thought furiously, the reason Adrian hadn't come to her bed in weeks. He had his own private whore. She turned to glare at him, wanting to claw his eyes out.
The lying, cheating bastard! she thought furiously, quite oblivious to the fact that he'd made it plain from the beginning that he had no intention of marrying her. She was certain in that moment that he'd been on the very verge of offering for her before he'd taken to sleeping with the little red-headed slut he'd found. How dare he cast her off for that conniving little whore!
She could've killed him in that moment. But, no, she thought, turning to survey Danielle with loathing. It was all that little whore's fault! She'd ruined everything!
Adrian strode towards Danielle, who'd cowered against the bulwark, and jerked her to her feet, giving her a slight shake. She stared up at him a little wildly for several moments, then her face screwed up like a frightened child's. "I can't swim, my lord!" she wailed.
"You won't need to," Adrian said firmly. "I'll lower you on the rope, and the men below will help you into the long boat."
Danielle shook her head again. "I'll stay here. I'll help you with the widow Johnson, but I'm not goin' down there."
"Don't be a little fool!" Adrian ground out. "The ship's breaking up. You have to go down. You can't stay here."
As if taking his words as a cue, the ship lurched, throwing them both against the rail. Danielle clutched at Adrian wildly.
Adrian gave her a reassuring squeeze before he pulled away to look down at her. "The ship won't hold together much longer, and I don't know how long the men can hold that boat, Danny," he said more gently. "You have to do it, poppet. You'll be brave for me, won't you, sweetheart?" he asked coaxingly.
Danielle gazed at him wide-eyed for several moments but finally nodded.
"Good girl," he said, smiling at her in relief before he turned and moved back to get the rope he'd dropped. The ship groaned and rose up as he turned back towards Danielle with the coil of rope, then settled back with a vengeance, throwing him to the deck. Danielle rolled towards the gangway, teetering dangerously as she grabbed urgently for the railing of the bulwarks. Seeing her see-sawing on the very brink, Lavinia released her grip on the railing she held and slipped down the deck towards the bulwarks, flailing with her arms and legs as she tried to stop herself, and finally rolled to a halt on the opposite side of the gangway. She glared at Danielle for perhaps a heartbeat, then, quicker than a striking snake, lashed out with her foot and kicked her hand loose from the railing, watching with grim satisfaction as Danielle flailed frantically for several moments then toppled from the side of the ship and plunged into the sea.
Adrian muttered a curse and lurched forward, staring down into the water in disbelief before he turned to Lavinia. "My God! You pushed her!" he said in stunned incredulity.
Lavinia gaped at him, stunned by her own actions. "I didn't!" she wailed, clutching at his arm. "It was an accident."
Glaring at her murderously, he shook her loose and moved to the gangway.
"You can't mean to go after her," she gasped in amazement. "You can't leave me here! She's nothing! A cheep little whore. You can get another one just like her on any street corner. Don't leave me!" she screamed as he leapt from the side of the ship in an arching dive and disappeared beneath the frothing swells. She stared after him for several moments, then glanced toward the long boat, noting with horror that the crashing waves were pushing it farther and farther away, despite the men's efforts to hold it near the ship. Frantically, she began stripping off her petticoats, knowing that the heavy fabric was a death trap that would drag her beneath the waves. Finished, she caught hold of the rope the men had used to climb down the side of the ship and began to lower herself, strengthened by her fear and her fury. For she cursed Adrian steadily under her breath as she lowered herself with agonizing slowness to the waiting long boat.
The rope burned, ripping through the tender flesh of her hands so that she lost her grip before she was more than half way down and plunged into the sea. Terror gripped her, but in a moment she felt the touch of hands, and she was being pulled up through the murky waters. Her head broke the surface, and she gasped in great lungfuls of air as the men who'd dove to catch her heaved her over the side of the long boat to safety.
They cast about for some time in search of Danielle and Lord Beaumont but finally were forced to give them up for lost and began to pull towards the shore.
Chapter Sixteen
Adrian became aware of heat and a blinding light that burned into his eyelids. He squeezed his eyes more tightly shut, taking a mental inventory of himself and his surroundings. He felt very much as if he'd been on a ten day drunk. His head throbbed abominably, and if t
here was any part of his anatomy that didn't ache, he couldn't, at present, discover it. The bed he lay upon was easily the hardest one he'd ever woke upon.
He moved his hand a fraction and felt the grit of sand. Christ! Where the hell was he? Had he involved himself in a brawl and ended up sleeping it off in the streets?
He became aware of the screech of gulls and the roar of the surf, and his eyes snapped open as memory flooded back. The azure canopy above him was still trimmed with wispy black veils, but they were distant, unthreatening now. He raised his head slightly and squinted at the fiery, orange crescent that peered just above the sea line in the distance, turning the rippling sea into gleaming strings of pearls.
He allowed his head to fall back against the sand, turning to gaze at Danielle as he suddenly recalled how he'd come to be where he was, noting with a strong sense of relief that her chest rose and fell steadily. He closed his eyes a moment as waves of memory returned; his stunned incredulity as he saw her disappear beneath the pounding seas; the fear and panic that had clutched at his heart and dragged at his self-control when the sheer hopelessness of finding her in that vast expanse of water had smote him. Never had he experienced anything quite like that paralyzing mixture of horror, fear, grief, hopelessness, and anger. He devoutly hoped he never would again.
Shuddering, he thrust the memories abruptly aside. He'd found her. There was no sense in dwelling on the horror of that time or the crushing sense of loss that had driven rational thought away. He had no desire to relive it. He had no desire to question his actions or reactions. He was rather inclined after a moment's thought, in fact, to dismiss it altogether as an entirely normal human reaction to an entirely abnormal situation.