Surrender the Heart (55 page)

Marianne paced before the stern windows in the captain’s cabin. She wrung her hands together and released a sigh.

Noah had come for her.

The thought swirled around in her mind, making her dizzy, and finding no solid place to land. Her toe banged into the bulkhead. Spinning on her heel, she headed the other direction.

He had come for her. Just as he’d promised. For her? Plain, ordinary Marianne.

Just after Captain Milford spotted the
Fortune
, he’d also spotted her standing at the railing. Immediately, he ordered two marines to escort her below and lock her in his cabin. Why? Did he think she’d jump overboard? If so, he didn’t know her too well.

Distant gunfire tapped the gray sky. Boot steps pounded above her. She fisted her hands at her side. She must know what was happening. Was Noah all right?

She glanced at the battle raging outside and realized his predicament. Was he mad?

Single-handedly taking on a British frigate? Albeit, a frigate that had gone on a wayward stroll, but a fully armed and functional frigate, nonetheless.

What was his plan? Did he think he would saunter on deck and steal her away beneath the British officer’s blue-blooded noses?

What did it matter? He’d come for her. Her heart swelled. She’d completed her destiny, and the man she loved had come to her rescue.

She would die happy with that knowledge.

And die she might.

Halting, she leaned her hands on the ledge and plastered her face against the cold, salt-encrusted glass. At the right corner of the window, the edge of the
Fortune
‘s stern drifted in the sea just thirty yards away.

Too close.

Weren’t they too close?

Her answer came in an enormous roar that jerked the frigate to starboard and sent a quiver through her timbers.

The deafening blasts echoed across the water and pounded in Noah’s ears. His crew froze as if time stood still. No doubt they all knew that dropping to the deck would make no difference if one of the shots struck them at this range.

Splash after splash chimed a sweet melody in the sea just off their bow.

“When that cap’n gives a warnin’ shot, he gives a warnin’ shot.” Weller chuckled though his laugh came out tense.

Noah gathered his breath. “Indeed. Aim our guns at their rigging, if you please, Mr. Weller.”

“Aye, aye, Cap’n.” Weller turned and brayed orders to the gun crew.

Luke’s blue eyes, wild with the thrill of battle, flickered over Noah before he leapt into the shrouds to direct the men aloft.

Blackthorn and Daniel hovered around one of the guns on the starboard side. Blackthorn, his stance tight and his dark eyes burning with zeal, stood before Daniel like an iron shield of protection. But as Noah approached, Daniel didn’t appear to need protecting. The boy glanced up at him, a mischievous look in his eyes, a grin that reflected
no fear, and a lit slow match in his hand.

“I’ll allow you the first shot, Blackthorn,” Noah said. “I assume you’d want the honors.”

A wide grin, devoid of two teeth split the man’s face. “Me pleasure, Cap’n.”

The honor the title bestowed caused Noah’s throat to close. He turned away.

Commotion on the
Undefeatable
drew his gaze to a gun crew preparing one of the swivel guns on their stern.

Luke dropped to the deck with a thud. “The men are ready, Captain.”

Noah glanced aloft where his crew awaited orders to unfurl sail. Mr. Pike, ever vigilant at the helm, gripped the wheel in preparation to bring the ship across the frigate’s bow.

Within reach of her swivel guns.

In order so that Noah could rake her and cripple her rigging, then be off in the wind’s eye before she could respond.

At least that was the plan. “On my mark, gentleman!” he bellowed.

Sails flapped and thundered. Then
whoomp
, the canvas caught the wind and billowed above them like bulging muscles. The ship jerked, then veered to starboard, picking up speed.

Bracing his boots on the deck, Noah took his position at one of the guns beside Weller. The
Defender
swept forward, crashing into rollers and sweeping spray onto her deck. Before them, the
Undefeatable
rose like a massive whale emerging from the sea.

“Fire!” Noah yelled.

Weller applied the red-hot end of the wick to the gun’s touchhole.

Five guns exploded in a deafening chorus. The ship quivered under the blast, then groaned in protest.

Black smoke slapped Noah in the face.

Coughing, he batted it away, gulping for air. “Hard to larboard!” he shouted.

With straining lines and creaking blocks, the
Defender
lurched and
swung away from the
Undefeatable
.

Yellow flames shot through the haze in the distance. The air burst with thunderous
boom
after thunderous boom as the
Undefeatable
gave her reply.

Clutching the railing, Noah shook the salty spray from his face and peered through the dissipating smoke. No eerie whine of speeding shot sped past his ears, no strike jolted the ship, no screams of agony, only the splash of cannon balls sounded as they struck the sea.

But then, in the distance, the ominous snap of a mighty piece of wood crackled the air.

“Move aside! Get out of the way!” followed by various expletives shot toward Noah through the fog.

A thunderous boom echoed. Not the boom of a cannon. But the sound of sweet carnage.

As the last vestiges of sooty mist cleared, Noah’s eyes confirmed what his ears had already told him. The top half of the mainmast of the
Undefeatable
had toppled to the deck and now hung over the side in a tangle of halyards, cordage, and sailcloth.

Huzzahs filled his ship like bubbles in champagne.

Noah released a breath. His crew swamped him with congratulations.

Without their mainmast, without their steering, the
Undefeatable
was nothing but a crippled hulk.

“Bring us athwart her bow, Mr. Pike. We’ll give her another raking.” Noah scanned the deck. “Mr. Boone, go below and check for damage. Matthew, retrieve my weapons.”

His old friend gave Noah a curious look before disappearing down a hatch.

Off Noah’s starboard side, another snapping sound, followed by cheers, drew his gaze. Released from the maze of tangled lines, the
Constitution
eased away from her enemy. Free at last, she appeared in far better condition than the
Guerriére
, whose main- and foremasts toppled to her deck in a snarled heap of lines and canvas. At least now the
Constitution
could defend herself.

Behind the two ships, the last traces of sunlight spilled over the
horizon. In minutes, it would be too dark to see anything.

The
Defender
spun around and came in across the drifting
Undefeatable
‘s bow. Noah grabbed his spyglass and searched her decks for any sign of Marianne. He saw nothing but the frenzied efforts of the crew as they chopped away the broken mast before it dragged the ship onto her side. Captain Milford stood at the head of the quarterdeck, flanked by his officers, his head bowed and his hands gripping the railing.

Marianne must still be below
.

Short of pummeling the
Undefeatable
into surrender with broadside after broadside, and risk injuring Marianne in the process, Noah had no idea how he was going to get her off that ship.

CHAPTER 29

T
he pulse of guns throbbed in Marianne’s ears. She darted to the cabin door and swung it open. The red blur of a marine uniform jumped in her vision. A musket crossed the doorframe, barring her passage.

“Allow me to pass at once!” She stomped her foot. The man’s face was a mask of control. “My orders are to keep you within, miss.”

“Blast your orders, sir. Can you not tell we have been fired upon?”

An ear-piercing snap split the air, followed by an ominous groan, screams and shouts, then a
boom
that shook Marianne straight down to her bones.

A flicker of alarm crossed the marine’s stiff features.

Just before the ship jerked to larboard.

Arms flailing, Marianne toppled over the deck and struck the captain’s cabinet. Pain flared up her arm and into her shoulder. Shaking the fog from her head, she leaned forward and inched over the tilted deck, back to the open door. Surely the marine would have left his post for more important tasks.

But there he stood, rigid as a wooden soldier.

She slammed the door on him and stumbled to the stern windows. Squeezing onto the ledge, she peered out at the chaotic scene. Turbulent seas churned beneath a smoke-filled darkening sky. Who had struck them? The
Constitution?

Or, as unimaginable as the thought could be, Noah?

Oh Lord, keep him safe
.

Before she finished her prayer, the
Fortune
swung into view, riding high and wide on a valiant steed of foamy white.

Her heart stopped beating as she pressed her forehead to the glass, seeking its captain.

There. On the foredeck, feet spread apart, spyglass to his eye, Noah stood—in defiance of his lack of battle experience—with the confidence of a hardened warrior.

But he wasn’t a warrior. He was a merchantman. And by all appearances, a merchantman who had lost his good sense.

“I’m here! I’m here!” Marianne waved her arms in desperation but soon dropped them to her lap. He could not see her.

But she must get his attention.

Why?
Even if she did, how could he rescue her? The frigate was disabled, but not the men aboard her. She could hear all two hundred and fifty of them buzzing above her like a swarm of angry bees.

Lord, what do I do?

A undeniable pain lanced her heart as she gazed at the man she loved. He was so close. So very close. So close she could almost see the resolution on his face, could almost hear his deep, courageous voice.