Surrender the Heart (22 page)

Mr. Weller slogged off. Noah’s gut tensed in defiance.

“And you.” Mr. Simons squinted up at Noah. “Weren’t you the cap’n aboard that ship?”

“I was.”

“Well, now you’re a topmastman.”

Noah’s heart stopped. He glanced up at the towering masts that stretched into the blue sky. “Do you have any other positions?”

Mr. Simons eyed him curiously. “No, but if you’re afraid of heights, I guarantee you’ll overcome that right quick.” Again he laughed, and
Noah had the impression he spent his day laughing at his own jokes.

“Report to Blackthorn there. He’ll get you situated.”

Noah glanced over at the large, crusty looking fellow standing by the shrouds then back above. Men walked across the yards and foot-ropes as if they were wide city streets.

A vision of his brother, laughing and scrambling up the ratlines and around the lubbers’ hole at the mast top, filled Noah’s mind.

Gripping the lines, Jacob had glanced down at Noah, a wide grin on his tanned face. “Watch how easy it is, you jellyfish!” he shouted.

Right before …

Noah’s life had changed forever.

He froze. His body felt as heavy as an anchor. He could never go up there. If he did, he was sure he would die.

CHAPTER 12

M
arianne followed the officer called Reed, a tall, polished man with neatly trimmed coal black hair, out of the captain’s cabin and down two doors to a room even smaller than the one she’d been given aboard the
Fortune
.

“The steward’s quarters, miss. At the captain’s orders, a fresh gown left by one of the sailor’s wives has been laid out for you on the bed. I suggest you put it on.” His deep voice held the monotonous tone of someone either terribly bored or in complete control of any errant emotions.

She swung to face him. “Mr. Reed, I beg you. Surely you can see I do not belong here.” She searched his eyes for a speck of compassion. “I am but an innocent lady, born and raised in Baltimore.”

A hint of disdain crossed his gaze. “That you were born in Baltimore, I will not question. That any of you seditious Americans are innocent, I refuse to believe.” He lifted a haughty brow and looked above her as if the sight repulsed him.

“We won our freedom from Britain honorably and fairly. Or do you insist that all peoples bow before your great nation?”

“Not all. Only those who owe us the very debt of their existence.” The
whomp
of sails thundered above and the ship canted. Marianne gripped the doorframe for support, and Reed gave her a look of annoyance. “Though it appears you are no stranger to servitude, I doubt you are accustomed to the quality of service the captain requires.”

“How dare you? You do not know me, sir.”

“Guard your tongue, miss. I am an officer and will be addressed with respect.” He waved a hand through the air. “I’ll send Daniel to instruct you in your duties.” And with that, he nudged her inside and closed the door.

Marianne slumped onto the thin, knotty mattress and hung her head. A beam of sunlight struck the ruby in her ring and set it aglow. She twisted it and thought of the day her father had given it to her for her twentieth birthday. He had looked so dapper in his maroon coat and brown trousers with the tips of his styled hair grazing his silk cravat. It was the only time Marianne felt as though he approved of her, if only a little. She could still picture her mother sitting in the chair by the hearth, holding Lizzie against her breast—just a year old at that time. A warm glow, akin to the one within her ruby, swept over Marianne at the memories. They had been a happy family once.

Falling to her knees, she dropped her head onto the mattress.
Why, God, why? I don’t understand. What purpose could it have served to take Papa from us?
Tears blurred her vision.
And now this? Captured and enslaved on a British warship. Help me understand
.

The deck tilted, and Marianne’s knees shifted over the floorboards. A splinter pierced her gown and into her leg. A pinprick of pain shot up her thigh. Yet no answer came from God. The booming crack of sails above and the crush of water pounding on the hull were answer enough. God had a plan, of that she was sure. However, it was surely a plan that did not consider her or her family’s happiness.

“Oh Lord, please take care of Noah and his men. It’s my fault they are here,” she sobbed. The rough burlap scratched her face, and she lifted her head into her hands. Tears slid down her cheeks and dropped onto the coverlet, forming darkened blotches. “And if You can spare a
moment, please look after Mama. I miss her so much. Please do not let her die.” The tears flowed freely now, and her body convulsed beneath a flood of them until she had none left.

“Miss! Miss!” A child’s voice drifted over Marianne. “Miss!” Someone tugged on her arm. “Miss, wake up!” Marianne searched through the fog in her head, trying to remember where she was. The British ship!

She snapped her eyes open to a face so sweet and innocent, she thought she might have died and gone to heaven. If not for the ache in her head and the cramps in her legs—and the teetering of the ship beneath her as it sailed through the deadly sea.

“Who are you?” Marianne struggled to sit, then rubbed her eyes.

“I’m Daniel, miss.” He glanced out the half-opened door. “Sorry t’ disturb you, but the captain will be wantin’ his cabin attended to before his noonday meal.” With brown hair the color of cocoa and eyes as bright as lanterns in a dark sanctuary, the boy’s presence seemed to scatter the forebodings of doom that had consumed her cabin.

“What time is it? How long have I been asleep?” Marianne pushed the hair from her face.

“‘Bout an hour, miss.” Daniel smiled, revealing a perfect set of white teeth. “I came by ‘efore but figured you needed the rest due to being impressed an’ all.” He said the words as if this sort of thing happened all the time. Well, perhaps on this ship, it did.

He clipped his thumbs into the waist of his oversized blue breeches. “We best be hurryin’, miss.”

“Very well.” Marianne struggled to stand, then leaned her hand against the wall to steady herself as the ship rolled. She pressed down the folds of the maroon gown she’d donned. A scandalous color, to be sure. But she didn’t wish to vex the captain by not accepting his gift. “I suppose you’re here to instruct me in my duties.”

“Aye.” The boy beamed and flung dark hair from his face. Clear
brown eyes shone with an invitation for friendship.

An invitation that, despite her circumstances, Marianne couldn’t help but accept.

For the next two hours, Daniel instructed Marianne in the fine art of being a captain’s steward. The list of duties was exhausting. Not only did Captain Milford want his meals brought from the cook on time, his uniforms delivered to the laundry and returned promptly, and his daily attire laid out each morning, but also the floor of his cabin scrubbed, his rug shook out, his desk and shelves dusted, and the silver on his sword hilts, chalices, and trays polished every day.

“What of these plants?” Marianne asked Daniel as she glanced over the assortment lining the stern window frame. From what she knew of horticulture, one was a strawberry bush, one a lime tree, another a patch of onions. The others she could not name.

“Oh no, miss.” Daniel’s eyes widened. “You must never touch those. Only the captain cares for his plants.”

“A curious thing to see on a ship, is it not?”

“Aye miss. But the cap’n is a curious man, if you ask me.”

Yes, she had noticed. “How do you know so much about caring for the captain?”

“I used to help the captain’s last steward a bit.” Daniel’s voice sank. “Before he fell overboard.” He shrugged. “An’ I guess the captain’s partial to me.”

“I can see why.” Marianne pressed a hand over an ache in her back and glanced out the stern windows. The distant horizon rose and slipped beneath the frame as the ship traversed each ocean swell. Though rays of sunlight brightened the entire cabin, making it almost cheery, they also increased the temperature. Withdrawing a handkerchief from her sleeve, Marianne dabbed at the moisture on her neck and thought of how miserable it must be on deck in the direct sun.

“Have you seen my friends?”

Daniel opened a jar of some type of oil and dribbled some onto a soiled cloth.

He nodded. “Are they well?”

“Aye, miss.”

“Can you get a message to them for me? To the tall one with the light brown hair.”

Daniel’s eyes lit up. “Aye, the cap’n?” The smell of lemons and linseed filled the room.

“Yes.” Marianne bit her lip. No doubt Noah would still be so furious that he would not wish to hear a peep from her, but she needed to know how he and the others fared. She’d never forgive herself if something happened to them. “Can you tell him I’m sorry and ask him if there’s anything I can do?”

Daniel nodded his understanding as he knelt to scrub the floor.

Marianne plopped beside him and grabbed another rag. “How old are you, Daniel?”

“Eleven.” His voice rang with pride.

“What are you doing on board this ship?” She poured oil on the rag and mimicked Daniel’s method of polishing the deck. “Is your father aboard?”

He halted for a minute, then continued scrubbing. “I was impressed, same as you.”

“Impressed? Stolen?” Her fears began to rise for the boy. “You’re an American?” Why hadn’t she noticed the absence of the distinct British lilt?

He beamed. “Aye, from Savannah.”

The poor lad. Marianne laid a hand on his shoulder. “Where are your parents?”

“Back home, I suppose,” he said without looking up from his task.

Marianne stood, her indignation rising with her. “How can the Royal Navy steal little boys away from their parents? Have they no shame?”

“I was on a merchant ship, same as you.” He shrugged and gave her a peaceful smile, completely at odds with the alarm she felt. “It is the way of the Royal Navy, miss.”

“That does not make it right,” she huffed. “What do you do here on board?”

Rising to his feet, he lengthened his stance. “I am a powder boy, miss.”

Marianne drew a sleeve over her damp forehead, wincing when she touched her wound. “Powder boy? What does a powder boy do? I thought most gentlemen no longer powder their wigs.”