Already His (The Caversham Chronicles - Book Two) (52 page)

By tomorrow night, she would feel the salty spray of the ocean on her face and the motion of the vessel under her feet. For some inexplicable reason she just knew her heart would soar as she heard the snapping of the sailcloth in the wind and the shouts of the men as they performed the tasks ordered by their captain. It would be just as Ren described when he told her of the adventures he had when she was a babe. Sarah smiled as she remembered forcing her brother to repeat each voyage every evening he was home.

When she was older, she read the journals and ship logs that lined the shelves of her brother’s office, finding these far more stimulating reading than the historical or scientific tomes or romantic novels in the library. These were log books with descriptions written in the hand of her relatives, who had seen and witnessed each act and event she’d read.

It was those tales of adventure, and the uncertainty of success that started this desire within her to travel and see the world. They were food to her adventurer’s mind and soul.

Yes, without a doubt, Lucky would be angry with her when he discovered she’d stowed away, but he’d soon get over his anger when he realized he couldn’t very well return her to dry land. Her older brother would be furious as well once he realized what she’d done. But by the time anyone noticed her missing, she’d already be somewhere in the Atlantic and there’d be nothing they could do about it. She’d write a note to Ren explaining what she’d done and leave it on the
secretaire.
They’d find it when they looked through her room for clues, though they should know she’d seize the opportunity to sail the Atlantic and see New York City when it presented itself. After all, she talked about her desire to see the Americas her entire life.

The devil take her, but she’d happily face Ren’s anger upon her return for an adventure such as this!

A soft knock on her door preceded her maid, who’d come to help her undress for bed. While Trudy braided her thick mass of unruly waves, Sarah contemplated the timing of her escape. She had to leave well before breakfast and do so without setting up an alarm. Darkness was her ally. With the mound of pillows on the bed, she would fashion a suitable form under the covers that hopefully upon first glance would appear human, thus intimating to her maid she still slept. Then once at the docks, she’d need someone to take her out to the boat. That was why she’d thrown her coin purse in the satchel. She didn’t doubt that she’d find someone to take her. In her experience, when you offered someone enough coin, they’d willingly do just about anything.

Like the summer she was ten years old, when she mapped the entire estate over a period of five weeks while the rest of the family enjoyed their season in London. She had been studying geography at the time and Ren had joked about her mapping the American continents one too many times. Sarah had wanted to prove her map drawing skill to her brother and set out alone to accomplish the task.

Of course she was found out before she’d gone one hundred yards from the stables. Theo the stable lad had discovered what she was up to as she led her pony, loaded with all her supplies, plus a rolled napkin with some pilfered crusty bread and fruit. At first, he refused to keep quiet about her expedition. Until she offered him her collection of Roman coins she’d dug up near the old church ruins.

On her brother’s birthday, she proudly presented him with a rolled, charted map of Haldenwood, current up to that date, with boundaries and elevation changes. When asked how she’d accomplished the task, she proudly regaled to the entire family of her solo adventures in mapping.

Sarah waited until her maid had gone, then opened the drawer to her desk and took out a sheet of vellum, quill and ink.

My dearest family,

First, please do not be upset. Rest assured, I am safe with Lucky. And please, for pity’s sake, do NOT interrupt the race because of my desire to not have another adventure pass me by!

I have decided that since it is highly doubtful that I shall ever marry, there are a few things I would like to do before I settle into my spinsterhood. One is seeing if the ocean really is as clear and blue as I’ve always heard; and another is to see America.

Also, please do not fault Lucky in this. He knew nothing of my plans.

Love, and etc.,

Your Sister,

Sarah

With the note written, she placed it inside the old ship’s journal she’d been reading. The only thing she waited for now was for the house to go quiet for the night.

S
lipping past the fire boy as he slept in the kitchen proved easier than she’d expected and once outside she made her way to the street, keeping to the shadows alongside the house as much as possible. She walked briskly and with intent toward the port a short distance away. She entered the area cordoned off for the morning ceremonies and began to look for someone to ferry her out to
Avenger
. Pulling the gray coarse-knit cap down lower over her brow, she took on a stooped posture and with the bag slung over her shoulder she looked very much like any other young sailor. She raised the collar of her coat, hiding her face and any trace of the waist-length braid tucked inside.

A scrawny lad sat with his feet dangling over the side of the dock. Glancing over the edge, she saw a dinghy tied below. Sarah dropped her voice, hoping she sounded masculine. “Can ye ferry me out to me boat, lad? I shoulda been on it hours ago and th’ cap’n will be missin’ me come sun-up.”

The lad shook his head. “Can’t do it. I’m waitin’ on me own cap’n.”

“There’ll be coin in it for ye.”

The boy looked more interested now that money was mentioned. “’Ow much ye got?”

Sarah fished two half sovereigns from her pocket and showed him. The boy looked at the money in her hand, then around the darkened pier.

“Fine. But I gotta be quick, don’t know when me cap’n’s comin’ back.” Sarah tossed the bag into the dinghy and stepped down into it. Once the boy shoved away from the pier with the oar, he asked, “Which un’s yer boat?”

“
Avenger
.”

“Aye. I knows where it is.”

They rowed out about a hundred yards into the darkness with only the light of a cloud-covered sliver of moon. Gentle waves lapped the side of the tiny craft.

This was it. There was no turning back now. She was on her way to see the ocean and America. Well, at least one city in America. She told herself that she would return later to see more of the country later. Perhaps once she found a traveling companion.

She practically trembled with anticipation when the lad brought the dinghy along-side Lucky’s boat, near the rope ladder. Sarah asked, “Are ye sure ye got the right boat? Don’t want me cap’n lashin’ me back.”

“Aye, she’s the right un. I’m right alongside ye on
Evangeline
.”

She handed the lad the two coins, tossed her satchel over her shoulder, and grabbed hold of Jacob’s ladder.

“Good luck to ye.”

“Aye. And to you too,” she replied as she began to climb up the port side.

She peered over the rail and saw no one about. Silently climbing onto the deck, Sarah wound her way toward the bow and prayed the hatch to the forward hold would be open. If so, she’d climb down and hide there. If it wasn’t, she knew she couldn’t lift it easily or quietly. In that case, she’d have to find the lazarette, or dry goods storeroom if there was one, and hide there.

Seeing the open hatch, she thanked God and knelt to look inside. It was dark out and even darker below in the hold. She’d just have to take her chances. She lowered her bag in and dropped it. It didn’t make a sound so she assumed her landing, too, would be soft and silent. She sat in front of the hold, grabbing the lip of the hatch opposite and scooted her bottom forward, then dropped herself feet first into the abyss.

As she’d suspected, she landed on folded canvas duck cloth. Yards and yards of the stuff. Spare sails, she thought. Wonderful. Moving to the far corner of the cavernous dark hold, she lay on the folded material and using her satchel as a pillow, forced her racing heart to calm and tried to sleep.

G
rayish-pink light filtered into the forward hold from overhead. Day was breaking. Footsteps alerted her to at least one crewman awake above deck. The man drew closer to the bow, and her hideout. Sarah quickly lifted a fold of sailcloth and ducked under it, then remembered her bag and covered herself and it thoroughly. The hatch overhead slammed shut, echoing in the hold and reverberating through her body. Trapped. Truly shut-in. The time to cry off, if she were going to do such a thing was now past.

She threw the stifling sail off her and thought about the adventure ahead. Soon, the race would be underway and Lucky wouldn’t be able to send her ashore. That’s when she would come out of hiding. There was no way she’d spend the entire voyage down here. She wanted to see the ocean teaming with fishes, feel the salty wind and sea spray as it whipped over her face and through her hair. She wanted to see no land, because she’d never sailed anywhere before where you couldn’t see or swim to land nearby. She wanted to experience that sense of vulnerability that comes with being at the complete mercy of a force greater than any she’d ever known—that supreme force of nature described by her relatives and the other captains of whom she’d read. They were the same men who established trade with countries around the globe, men whose bravery and skills brought almost every boat and man home.

The darkened hold became stifling, the smell of pitch stronger now that no air entered from the hatchway. Removing her coat, she tossed it to the side along with her hat and satchel. Sounds coming from above told her the crew was weighing anchor. The boat began to move, now free from its mooring. Sails were raised and the vessel surged forward. The boat pitched hard to port as it turned and Sarah was thrown into the bulkhead, striking her shoulder on a beam. Thinking of a way to keep from getting tossed about while she was down here, she resigned herself to lying close to the center of the hold, under several folds of sail, even though it was more than a bit warm. The additional weight kept her relatively padded and safe.

She tried to get situated once again and settled in with the comforting rocking and rolling motion of a ship at full sail. Smiling in the inky blackness, she wondered if her maid had noticed her gone yet and if her brother had found her letter.

He was sure to be angry, but hopefully not so angry that he’d delay the start of the race to search Lucky’s boat and haul her back home.No, he wouldn’t do that. That would cause a scandal. And if there was one thing the Duke of Caversham detested more than lying, it was the mere thought of the family name tangled up in a scandal.

S
arah knew the precise moment they’d hit the open sea. The boat began to pitch unlike anything she’d ever known before. Of course it didn’t help being in the farthest front compartment as the bow sliced through the waves. Perhaps that was why people didn’t sleep in the bow, and only sails were stored up here. Sails couldn’t get beat up, like stupid, impulsive ladies who don’t think before they get themselves locked in the forward hold.

Thankfully the sailcloth provided her some protection, but she still got tossed about the small compartment. Once she’d even hit the solid oak rafter of the deck above her. Sarah heard a voice issue orders above, and the scurry of footsteps as the command was carried out.

This went on for quite a while, as Sarah contemplated banging on the hatch to have someone let her out. She was thirsty and hungry, and needed to relieve herself. She had no idea how long she’d been down here, nor how far out of Liverpool they were. Another pitch and she felt weightless again, and braced herself for another hit against the rafter.

This was insane. She wanted adventure, not broken bones. When the boat turned hard over, Sarah flew into the right bulkhead. She vowed that the minute she heard footsteps above deck she would scream for the man to let her out. Having no idea how long the seas were going to be rough, or when anyone might open the hatch so she could get some fresh air, she decided she just could not wait any longer. Oh, what was she thinking? No one even knew she was down here. It was then she realized spare sails don’t need fresh air, just protection from water.

It seemed an eternity before she heard voices and footsteps headed toward the bow. But as soon as she did, she let out with the loudest, longest scream she could muster.

I
an stood at the wheel, with his eye on the fore-and-aft sail and foresail. Scanning the horizon once again, he caught sight of
Avenger
and knew she followed his lead. He had approximately a six minute lead out of the box, which meant nearly a mile separated the two vessels. Ahead were three square-rigged vessels at full sail and the
Ann McKim
. By luck of the draw, nineteen of the thirty-two boats entered left the box before him. Ian allowed himself a smile of satisfaction as he realized all that stood between him and the lead were the four vessels ahead. Especially since the
Revenge
was a three masted topsail schooner, which at first glance didn’t look nearly as fast as
Ann McKim
, with her long jibboom and four headsails. But was, in fact, much quicker.