Surrender the Heart (47 page)

He drew in a deep breath and gripped the railing. Strength and an unusual, if not misplaced, confidence surged through him. Nothing could stop him now.

“A sail! A sail!” someone shouted from above. “Four points off the starboard beam.”

Below, on the main deck, Luke darted to the railing and peered at the horizon.

Daniel stood at attention as Noah drew his scope to his eye. A two-masted sloop came into sharp view, the Union Jack flapping from her mainmast. He lowered the glass. Luke scrambled up the stairs and marched toward him.

“It’s a British war sloop,” Noah stated.

Luke nodded. “And she’s bearing down on us fast.”

Gripping the broom, Marianne swept the painted canvas that served as a rug in the center of the captain’s cabin and gathered the dust into a pile by the door. She had already scrubbed the deck, served the captain two meals, brought his clothes down to the laundry, and polished five lanterns that now hung in various spots on the bulkhead. Her back ached. Her feet hurt. And her stomach growled.

Sweep. Sweep. Dust flew through the air, transforming into tiny pieces of glitter that danced in the afternoon sunlight. Amazing how something so base and dirty could become so beautiful when exposed to the light. She pondered that thought as she watched the thin line of the distant horizon fill the stern windows, then fall out of view, then rise again, then fall. She barely noticed the sway of the ship anymore, barely had any trouble remaining upright. Another month out to sea, and she would forget what it felt like to walk on something that wasn’t heaving to and fro.

She continued her sweeping. Ten days had passed since she’d read Esther. Ten days had passed since she thought she’d heard God’s voice
in her cabin telling her He loved her and was with her. And nothing had happened.

If she was here for a purpose, other than cleaning and scrubbing and serving, she had no idea what it could be.

She sneezed and dabbed at the perspiration on her neck. It had been a little over three weeks since Noah had dropped over the bulwarks and disappeared into the sea. Since then, each day had slipped by, snatching a bit more of her hope in passing. If Noah had found his ship and intended to come after her, surely he would have arrived by now. She swept more dust into her growing pile. But why would he? What could he and his merchant ship hope to accomplish against such a formidable foe?

She was on her own.

“I am with you, beloved.”

She sighed and gazed around the cabin. “Lord, where have You been?” She leaned on the tip of the broom. “I need You. I need to know what You want me to do.”

“Trust Me.”

Shouts filtered down from above, followed by the pounding of feet on the deckhead. Within minutes the snap of sails thundered, and the captain’s booming voice rang through the timbers. Marianne stared above, wondering what caused all the commotion.

The sighting of another ship, perhaps? Her heart froze. The frigate jolted and the purl of the water against the hull grew louder. She listened for any further clues, but only the muffled voices of the crew and the chime of a bell drifted over her ears.

She pondered going aloft to see what was happening when the door swung open, crashing against the bulkhead. Marianne jumped, then moved out of the way as the captain charged into the cabin. Lieutenants Garrick, Reed, and Jones followed on his heels.

The stomp of their boots hefted her pile of dust into the blast of wind that entered behind them, scattering it across the cabin.

She blew out a sigh and laid a hand on her hip. Lieutenant Garrick’s gaze slithered over her, and she resisted the urge to swat him with her broom.

Captain Milford circled his desk, dropped his spectacles onto his nose, and leaned over a chart.

The three lieutenants doffed their hats, stuffed them between their right arms and bodies, and lined up before him.

“Here we are.” The captain’s finger stopped on the chart. “And here is where we spotted her.”

Lieutenant Reed leaned on the desk and peered at the chart. “I’d say not more than eight miles northeast of us.”

The captain studied Mr. Jones. “Are you sure of what you saw?”

The thin, nervous man nodded. “Yes. American. I’d swear by it, Captain.”

American
. Marianne’s ears perked up.

“If the admiral’s information is correct, it must be the USS
Constitution
. We could be upon her tomorrow.” Garrick’s voice dripped with greed.

“Yes, my thoughts exactly, Mr. Garrick.” The captain lengthened his stance and grabbed his chin. “Yet we were told to rendezvous with the
Guerriére
at this location.” He pointed at the chart.

“Perhaps they spotted the enemy and took pursuit, Captain,” Mr. Jones offered.

The captain’s eyes twinkled. “And if so, I believe they would appreciate our help.” He rubbed his hands together. Then grabbing four glasses from his cabinet, he lined them on his desk and poured brandy into each one. “We are at war, gentlemen. At war with a bunch of quarrelsome, jingle-headed farmers who have more backbone than brains!” He chuckled and grabbed his glass.

More backbone than brains
, indeed. Marianne feigned disinterest as she kept sweeping.

Garrick stiffened his back and grabbed one of the glasses. “There’s nothing like the pounding of the guns to get your blood pumping.”

“The Americans don’t stand a chance, sir.” Reed took another glass. “Didn’t the admiral say this laughable rebel navy only possessed six frigates, three sloops, and a few smaller vessels?”

Garrick’s malicious laugher filled the cabin. “Compared to our six
hundred warships, one hundred and twenty ships of the line, and one hundred and twenty frigates. Egad, are they mad?”

Marianne felt his eyes on her, no doubt hoping to gloat her into a reaction, but she kept her gaze on the deck. When he faced forward again, she swept dust onto his boots.

“It will be good to put these rebels in their place.” Mr. Reed nodded.

Sweep. Dust showered over Mr. Reed’s boots.

“And restore order to the colonies,” Captain Milford said. “To the war, gentlemen.” He lifted his glass. Mr. Jones grabbed his.

“To victory!” Garrick said, and all four men raised their glasses together.

A sour taste rose in Marianne’s mouth at their pompous display. The sharp scent of brandy filled the room.

“Besides, I hear their land is rich and free for the taking.” Mr. Jones sipped his drink.

Marianne ground her teeth together and swept dust onto Mr. Jones’s boots.

The captain gazed out the window. “Ah, a nice piece of land to call my own.” He seemed to drift to another place as the men stood savoring their drinks.

“Blast it all!” The captain growled so loud even the lieutenants flinched. “Unfortunate that night falls within an hour.”

“We shall catch them at first light, Captain,” Reed said with confidence.

“If they have not outwitted us.” The captain’s weary eyes surveyed the chart. “We shall see.” He raised a gaze to Garrick. “Maintain our present heading and place extra men in the masthead to keep a weather eye out for her.” He slammed his glass down on the desk. “Let us find this American rebel and give her a hearty British welcome.”

They all chuckled and tossed the brandy to the back of their throats.

Fire burned in Marianne’s belly. Of all the impertinent, bombastic, audacious … who did they think they were? Congratulating themselves
on a victory not yet won.

The captain grinned. “Who knows if we aren’t here for such a time as this?”

Marianne froze. She lifted wide eyes to the captain, fully expecting to see his taunting smile directed toward her. But he paid her no mind and began pouring the men another drink.

“For such a time as this.”

Marianne’s heart sped to a rapid pace.

What are You trying to tell me, Lord?

“For such a time as this.”

Yes, they were chasing an American warship, intent on destroying her. But what could Marianne do? She was a nobody. A prisoner. A servant. Was she supposed to take on an entire ship full of British sailors and soldiers?

She gripped the handle of the broom until her fingers reddened. Yet hadn’t she done something similar on Noah’s ship? Disabled the entire ship all by herself? She sighed and continued sweeping. There was no cargo to ruin on board this ship. What else could she do? She searched her mind for her conversations with Weller about accidents aboard a ship. What else had he said would disable a ship?

The tiller
. Blood rushed to her head.

“Look what you’ve done, you insufferable woman.” Lieutenant Jones stared down aghast at his dusty boots. The other men followed his gaze.

“Egad!” Mr. Reed lifted one foot up to examine the damage as Garrick’s curse raked over Marianne’s ears. All eyes shot to her.

She shrugged. “My apologies, gentlemen. How careless of me.” Forcing down a smile, she swept the broom over each of their boots, scattering the dust into a cloud.

The captain cleared his throat and gave her a look of reprimand that held a promise of punishment. But that didn’t matter anymore. Marianne had a plan. And she knew exactly what she needed to do.

CHAPTER 25

N
oah studied the oncoming sloop. His gut wrenched. From what he could tell, she carried fifteen thirty-two pounders on her main deck, six twelve pounders on her quarterdeck, and two carronades mounted on her forecastle. Twenty-three guns in all and probably more that he couldn’t see. He snapped his long glass shut. The
Fortune
pitched over a roller, and Noah gripped the railing. Salty mist stung his eyes. He gazed above where every inch of bloated canvas was set to the gusty breeze.

And still the sloop gained.

“Bring her as close to the wind as you can, Mr. Pike,” Noah ordered the helmsman.

“Aye, aye, Cap’n.”

The sails snapped. The ship canted to larboard as blue squalls swept over her deck. Noah balanced himself and stared at the oncoming ship. With the confidence of a mighty predator, she dashed after her prey, white spray foaming at her bow.