The Duke's Daughter -Wattys2014 Collector's Dream Award Winner-

Chapter Twenty Seven

Derek and Alejandro were on the stern deck, sharing a mug of rum with the crew, after making safe harbor. Alejandro was reclined back against the stern railing, seated upon the deck. Derek joined him, leaning himself against the barrel opposite.

"Are you truly going to take her ashore, Captain?" Alejandro asked, though his eyes never left the contents of his mug.

"Aye. I am sure she would appreciate feeling land beneath her feet. You know the feeling, my friend."

"Aye, I do." Alejandro lifted his mug to lips, but before a drop touched his tongue, he added, "Are you sure it is safe?'

Derek looked at his first mate as the coward hid behind his mug like a woman. What the hell was wrong with him?

"If you have something to say, Alejandro, please just do so. I grow weary of your woman's games."

"Woman's games!" Alejandro huffed out his chest, setting his mug on the deck beside him. "What do you want me to do? Read off the reasons, that you and I are both already aware of, as to why Lady Arianna Kent probably shouldn't just go skipping up to the docks!?"

"Keep your voice down, brother." Derek spoke in a calm, even tone, Alejandro grumbled, but settled back to his previous relaxed position.

"I am aware that there may be danger, Alejandro." Derek continued. "But Miser believes her dead and has not been seen for nigh on a week now. Yes, I remember that Hensley was also involved in the hunt for her, and that there may be others, but I shall simply keep you close, and her closer. No harm shall befall her."

"I have a bad feeling about this, my friend."

Derek laughed off his first mate's superstition, "Tis more likely your supper does not agree with you."

******

Derek stood back, watching his first mate bartering with other tradesmen, who had come to inspect the cargo, or sell them more. So far, they had brought in a decent amount on the rum they had acquired in the Caribbean, the teas and silks they had purchased in the Orient, and the fine wines and brandy they had brought from France. Alejandro had bought lumber and linens from the American merchants, and they were being loaded into the hull.

Derek was usually much more involved with the trades, but his mind was preoccupied this morning. For some reason, it had not occurred to him that Arianna might have her own past, just as he had his. But after five days of tending to her, while she was delirious with fever, he had come to be much more interested.

She had spoken a lot of her mother. Derek had been confused by, and sympathetic to, the fear that had risen quickly with the subject. He had gathered that she had lost her mother, or rather, her mother had been 'taken', whatever that meant. But obviously, it was something that still sat uneasily within her.

She had spoken of her brother, William, and it seemed, from her imagined bickering with him, that their relationship had been a close one.

"Derek."

He turned to find Alejandro glaring at him. What had he done now?

"What?"

Alejandro rolled his eyes, "For the third time, what are you willing to let the brandy go for?"

He thanked the stars that his first mate was intelligent enough to steer the conversation away from his inner thoughts. He repeated the price they had earlier agreed upon, and Alejandro moved back to the last merchant visiting the Lady.

Derek went below deck to his cabin, he was going to take Arianna on a tour of New York, and he was quite looking forward to it. It was nice getting to know her upon his ship, but he knew she would be glad for a reason to dress as herself once again, and be able to simply enjoy herself. At this point Derek was pretty sure he would do anything, short of wearing petticoats in public, just to see her smile.

******

The lunch hour had come and passed. The Green Eyed Lady had forfeited the slip to another merchant ship, resting at anchor once more, in the harbor. The passengers had been awaiting the moment they would venture onto shore all morning.

Now that the time had arrived, Jessica Bridger found herself seated in a short boat, across from her parents, and next to her sister. On the other side of her father sat Mr. George Spencer, Viscount Whitmore's brother, and across from him, next to Jolene, sat Mr. Joseph Spencer, Whitmore's heir. It seemed that, after their father had informed Jolene that the captain was already betrothed, her sister had set her cap on the future Viscount. He did not seem to mind in the least.

Jessica turned away from the sight of her sister batting her eyes up at the square faced young man, and looked back to the ship she called home at the moment. The captain had not accompanied them ashore, nor had the first mate. When Jessica's father had asked the captain about it, he had said that he had pressing matters to see to, before he could venture ashore. It seemed the cabin boy was still sick.

Jessica harbored her suspicions in silence regarding the cabin boy's identity. There would be plenty of time to solve the mystery on their way to James Town.

******

The small rowboat was not out of place in the harbor. Neither were its occupants; four young men, one middle aged man, and one elderly man, all dressed in plain clothing. In fact, no one even gave the boat a second look. Whitmore was not exactly sure why he felt they should, but he had fully expected someone to be suspicious of them. Perhaps he had thought the group's ill intentions would be obvious to all.

"The Lady is anchored just around that ship there. Steer clear, Jamison. I would like to put in on the North side of the dock as I have a missive to send out before we are about our business.", Miser called, from his spot at the bow of the small boat. Even he was dressed in simple breeches and an unadorned shirt.

The man named Jamison made no effort to reply to the Admiral, but the boat changed directions easily, with the man's bulging arms controlling the oars. They skimmed around two more ships, finally making it to the small passenger docks.

The boat was tied off, and two of the men assisted Whitmore, until his feet found the boards of the dock. Whitmore took a deep breath, wishing he could rejoice with the feeling of unmoving earth beneath his feet.

Instead, the sensation simply increased the dread that had pooled in the pit of his stomach, tenfold.