Surrender the Heart (10 page)

“The man is a jingle-brained, bedeviled rogue,” Marianne grumbled as she made her way to the captain’s chamber … cabin, whatever it was called, later that evening for supper.
Why, Lord, do You force me to marry such a man?
Any other man would be better than this one.

Pressing a hand over her stomach, she halted and leaned on the wall. The ship canted to the left, and she stumbled to the other side of the corridor. Swaying lanterns flung eerie shadows over the wooden planks that encased her like a coffin. Indeed, she felt as though she had died and gone to hell—a watery grave ruled by the evil King Noah, a man who was not only malicious but a traitor as well. How could she
marry someone who did not share her love of country?

She forced herself to continue. Though she would rather turn down Noah’s invitation to dine with him and his officers—knowing it only provided him further opportunity to play his cruel games. She also knew she could not gain any useful information about sabotaging the ship by sitting in her cabin. Which was why she intended to arrive several minutes before the scheduled time for supper. Perhaps she could discover something in the room to aid her cause, and if she got caught snooping around she had an excuse for being there.

Gathering her breath, she peered around the open doorframe. In the midst of the cabin, an oblong table was set with pewter plates and mugs. Candles set in brass holders cast an icy glow over the silverware neatly placed beside each plate. A bowl of fruit and decanters of liquid stood at attention in the center of the table. Beyond it, through the stern windows, the setting sun trailed a red and orange ribbon across the horizon, even as tiny stars poked through the darkening sky above.

She took a step inside and her eyes landed on Noah’s desk, pushed off to the side. She headed in that direction when an “Um hum” sounded from the corner. Her heart seized and she spun around to see Mr. Hobbs rising from a chair, a mug in hand.

“Mr. Hobbs, I beg your pardon. I didn’t see you there.”

“Quite alright, miss.” He dragged the hat from his head. “I didn’t mean t’ startle you.”

Oh drat
, how could she snoop around with him here? “I must have the time wrong. Am I early for dinner?”

“Aye, just a bit.”

“Where is No—the captain?” Marianne glanced out the door, uncomfortable at the thought of being alone with this man.

“He went above for a bit, but he’ll be back soon.” He waved his hat at her and smiled as if sensing her ill ease. “Don’t let me cause you any discomfort, miss.”

Marianne studied him. With arms and legs that seemed too muscular for his short body and his bald head gleaming in the candlelight,
he appeared like an enormous bulldog. And just as ferocious until she looked in his gray eyes and found only kindness.

“Your wife has been most gracious to me, Mr. Hobbs.”

“Aye, she’s a good woman.”

Marianne could not imagine the pairing. Where Agnes was jolly and friendly, Mr. Hobbs was serious and reserved. Where Agnes was rotund and soft, Mr. Hobbs appeared stiff and hard.

An uncomfortable silence ensued, and Marianne turned to go. “I’ll return in a few minutes.”

“Nay, miss, if you don’t mind. I’m glad we got this chance to talk.”

Marianne cocked her head. “What do you wish to speak to me about, Mr. Hobbs?”

“I overheard the captain speakin’ t’ you earlier. Up on deck.”

She lowered her chin beneath a twinge as Noah’s callous words shot like arrows through her mind.

“It is not like him, you see. I don’t want you thinkin’ ill of him. He’s like a son t’ me.”

“Though I appreciate your concern I grow weary of everyone making excuses for his ill behavior.”

Mr. Hobbs’s lips grew taut. “I don’t blame you for thinkin’ such. Just don’t give up on him yet.”

“I have no intention of giving up on him, Mr. Hobbs.” Though not for the reasons he thought. Not because somewhere deep beneath Noah’s hard crust of cruelty, a speck of kindness survived, but instead because her mother’s life depended on it.

Marianne glanced at the captain’s desk again. “I wonder, Mr. Hobbs if you would oblige me.”

“I’d be happy to, miss.”

“Since I am to be imprisoned on this ship for months, I’ve taken an interest in sailing and navigation. Could you point out the captain’s instruments and their function to me?”

“Of course.” Mr. Hobbs threw back his shoulders and met her at the captain’s desk. “What would ye like to know?”

Marianne pointed in turn at each instrument and asked its function
and name, which Mr. Hobbs was more than eager to explain.

“So what would happen if the captain’s charts were to be lost?”

“He’d have t’ use the stars to guide him, I suppose.”

“What about this one.” Marianne picked up the odd-looking brass triangle with the curved bottom. “The sextant, was it? What exactly is it used for again?”

“Where’s the rum?” Mr. Heaton’s deep timbre filled the room, and Marianne glanced toward the door, quickly setting the sextant back upon the desk. The first mate’s dark hair, tied behind him in a queue, matched the black breeches he’d donned. A white shirt, encased in a black waistcoat with gold embroidery completed his ensemble. “Forgive me, Miss Denton. I did not realize you had arrived already.” He gave her a roguish grin that he no doubt expected would send her heart fluttering. She squelched any such reaction. She knew his type. He was handsome and he knew it. And he used it to his advantage. Marianne had resigned herself long ago that she would never know how it felt to stir a man’s passions by the mere sight of her. And for the most part, she was happy for it.

For the most part.

Noah marched into the room like a captain in command, and her heart quirked a traitorous flutter in her chest.
What is wrong with me?
He tossed his bicorn onto a hook on the wall and eyed his guests. One brow lifted when his eyes landed on her. “Miss Denton, you came?”

“I was invited, was I not?”

“I didn’t expect the pleasure of your company.”

“I did not wish to deny you of it.” She hid her annoyance beneath a sarcastic smirk.

Mr. Heaton grabbed a decanter from the table and poured himself a glass of whatever vile liquor it held.

Noah approached her, pointing at his desk. “What, pray tell, do you find so fascinating among my things?”

“Miss Denton wanted to—” Hobbs began.

“Mr. Hobbs was instructing me on the fine points of navigation, if you must know.” Marianne interrupted before the man gave her away.

Noah folded his arms across his brown waistcoat. “I had no idea you had such interests.”

“Nor the mind to grasp them?”

He smiled.

Luke dropped into a chair, a grin on his lips.

Mr. Hobbs shifted his stance and gazed between them. “Truth be told, Miss Denton has a keen mind an’ a quick understandin’.”

Marianne smiled at the elderly man. “Why, you are too kind, Mr. Hobbs.”

“Hmm.” Noah scratched the stubble on his jaw.

A sailor entered with a tray balanced on his shoulder. Another man followed him, and they both began placing platters of food on the table: biscuits, cheese, a steaming bowl of some sort of soup, and a block of salted meat.

The spicy scent of stew wafted over Marianne. Her mouth watered and her stomach clenched at the same time. Whether it was seasickness or the constant terror of being upon the ocean, Marianne found her appetite had shriveled.

She thanked Mr. Hobbs and moved away from the desk, deciding it would be best to make her exit now before she had to endure any more of Noah’s scorching wit.

The ship tilted and one of the sailors stumbled. A glass decanter flew from his tray and crashed to the floor, bursting into a hundred crystalline shards.

“My apologies, Cap’n.” The sailor growled as he knelt to pick up the mess.

“No need, Mr. Rupert,” Noah said. “Just attend to the mess, if you please.”

A red slice appeared on one of Rupert’s fingers, and Marianne withdrew her handkerchief from her sleeve and knelt beside him. Taking his hand in hers, she wrapped the bloody appendage. “Be careful, Mr. Rupert.” She smiled and his hazel eyes lifted to hers, shock skimming across them. “Let me help you.” She began picking up pieces of glass when a hand touched her arm.

“No need, Miss Denton. He can manage.”

She looked up to see Noah’s brow furrowed as tight as a wound rope.

“Of course.” She rose and felt warmth flush through her. What was she thinking? A lady of fortune did not assist servants. Her gaze scanned Mr. Heaton, Mr. Hobbs, the other sailor, and Noah all staring her way.

“If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, my head suddenly aches. I believe I’ll forfeit my dinner tonight.”

The curious look remained on Noah’s face. “Allow me to escort you to your cabin.”

She waved a hand through the air. “I know the way. Enjoy your dinner, gentlemen.” And with that, she swept out the door.

Making her way down the hallway, she chided herself for her mistake. Noah must never know how destitute she and her mother were. If he did, it would only fuel his desire to call off the engagement. And that must never happen. Not as long as Marianne had anything to say about it.

She stepped inside her cabin and shoved the door closed then leaned against the hard wood. Her plan was set in place. Now all she had to do was wait for the captain to leave his cabin.

CHAPTER 6

A
rap sounded on her cabin door, and Marianne stopped the pacing she’d taken up for the past several hours as she waited for the sounds of laughter to dissipate from the captain’s cabin—which they had done an hour ago. Still she could not get up the courage to do what she had to do. Not until she could be sure Noah was either gone from his cabin or fast asleep.

She opened the door to Agnes carrying a tray laden with cheese, biscuits, a mug, and a basin of water along with her medical satchel.

“Thank you, Agnes. You are too kind.” Marianne stepped aside, allowing the elderly woman to enter and set the tray upon the shelf. The sharp smell of cheese drifted on a salty breeze that followed the woman inside, sweeping away the stagnant air that filled the tiny cabin.