The Lady and the Captain (24 page)

Within minutes a white-foamed wave swelled up from the sea’s depths and swept the dead woman away. Not a sign of her remained, but a floating red gypsy scarf.

Dirt and shrub bit into Sarah’s skin as she slipped downwards.

Frantically, she tried to stop herself. She reached out, grabbing at shrubs and rock, until at last she caught a branch. Her left foot lodged into a protruding rock. She hung precariously onto the thin evergreen with both hands, closing her eyes against the vertigo. The world around her tilted uncontrollably. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Below she could hear the pounding of the sea’s surf as it rushed up against the island’s rocks. The sea’s spray almost touched her feet. If she let go now, she too would be swept away into the sea and drowned.

She hung there, praying that somehow she would be found. Hoping against hope, she prayed she would survive and outlive this nightmare.

It seemed like an eternity and then she heard something.

Voices from above cried out, “Sarah! Sarah! Where are you?”

“I’m here. I’m here . . . below you!” she yelled up.

She willed herself to remain calm, clinging to the small branch. She wasn’t going to grant that black-hearted she-devil her last wish.

“There’s no reason to be afraid . . . I’m alive . . . I’m alive,” she repeated to herself, calming her heart. “And they’ve found me!”

She heard the sound of something being thrown down from the cliff’s edge above her. Small rocks pebbled her face. Suddenly, it was calm.

She peeked to her right. A ladder rope was now dangling down next to her.

It was the same kind she had seen Robert use to climb up the side of The Brunswick’s sides. Her heart surged with hope. Maybe Jemima had lied. Perhaps the murderess had said Robert was dead in order to try and diminish her will to live.

Oh, please, dear Lord,
she prayed fervently,
let him be alive. Please let him be alive . . . I love him so much . . . I want to have a life with him.

Waiting, she closed her eyes, willing herself to be strong.

She listened as someone climbed down to her. More pebbles rained down on her face and arms. Some brave soul was coming down to get her. She was not going to be forced to act alone. Someone was risking his own life to help rescue her.

“Sarah,” said the familiar voice she had over the past month grown to cherish. “I’m here, my love . . . give me your hand. I’ll put you onto the ladder next to me.”

She held out her hand and felt Robert’s hand firmly grip hers. However, unable to resist the urge, she glanced downward. Her world tilted out of control.

Frightened, she released her hold.

“Don’t let go!” he urged.

He caught her wrist and placed her hand onto the ladder. She closed her eyes, dread hitting the center of her stomach. She wanted to be sick. She wanted to be anywhere but here. She wanted to magically disappear off this cliff. She wanted to be a bird and fly away.

The only real feeling that bound her to earth was the tight grip of his hand over hers, his voice urging her to hold on, to not give-up. He held onto the ladder with effortless strength. He acted as one who had spent years in the highest top yards and crows nests of three masted warships. His strong left arm pulled her up beside him.

His body acted as a solid wall upon which she could depend to keep her safe, protecting her from falling. She leaned into the rope. She was not going to give in to the vertigo.

“Hello, Sarah,” he whispered comfortingly into her ear. “I’m right here, darling.”

She took a deep breath. Her eyes remained firmly shut.

No,
I’m not going to faint. I’m going to get myself back to where I belong. I can do this. I can get up there
.

She felt him place both of her hands on the ropes.

“It’s going to be all right,” he said, his voice sounding tender. “We’re going to get you out of here. Don’t let go.”

She felt his firm arms go about her. He had positioned himself a little beneath and behind her. His strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist. His body acted as a protective shield from the sheer drop below him.

Swallowing the lump of fear in her throat, she asked, “How are we going to do this?”

“One step at a time. One step at a time. Hands, and then feet. Until we reach the top. And I’ll be with you the entire time. I won’t let you fall, love.”

And that was exactly what they did. Slowly, rung-by-rung, they went up together. They acted as if they were one. Carefully, they climbed to the rim of the cliff above. Hand over hand, one foot at a time, always looking up, never down.

With only five rungs remaining, Sarah saw dark green tufts of grass hanging over the cliff’s edge. Several sturdy seamen reached down. They pulled her up.

Her feet once again touched solid ground. She had not granted that mad woman’s vengeful wish. She had managed to survive.

She looked about her, dazed, seeking out familiar sights and sounds. The grass beneath her had never looked so wonderfully green before.

Upon spying her mother’s face, they both let out cries of joy.

Gladys hurried to her daughter’s side, tears streaming down her face. The long, comfy wrap she wore flapped in the wind like a beautiful black bird.

She held onto her beloved child, murmuring, “Thank the good Lord above that you are truly alive and well. All the saints above answered my prayers for your lives to be spared.”

Upon learning that Jemima Kaye had gone to a watery grave, the older woman growled, “Got what she deserved, did she . . . well then, I hope to high heavens that Lucifer has her hopping madly about on the brimstone. Aye, that dark sea witch’s soul no doubt is with him now. For sure when the angel of death comes it does not go away empty handed, does it?”

“Her heart was broken, Mother. She went insane with grief, refusing to let herself be healed. I tried to convince her.”

Tears gleamed in her eyes at her remembrance of the dangerous encounter.

“Shush now . . . don’t upset yourself any further. There was nothing you could have done,” murmured her mother comfortingly. She lovingly brushed back a strand of her daughter’s golden hair.

“Sometimes, darlin’, we can’t help the broken ones.”

She nodded, silently agreeing with her mother. Jemima had chosen her own destiny. There was nothing she could have said or done to change the fate of the other woman.

Robert, brushing off his clothes, heaved a sigh of relief. Captain Jackson heartily thumped him on the back in delighted greeting. Several fishermen warmly pressed his hand.

The local fishermen had been passing by Varrik Isle when they heard the same gunshots as Sarah. Upon spying the pirate ship anchored nearby, they’d rightly concluded that the famous wise woman and her daughter were in trouble.

The courageous fishermen had abandoned their nets, deciding to rout the pirates off the tiny island. The blockade runners, upon being surrounded by the armed and angry sons of Erin, scurried off like frightened bilge rats to safer waters.

A look passed between Sarah and Robert, one that she would remember for the rest of her life. Her mother gently released her. She too had noticed their unspoken bond.

Robert gazed down at the small ring she wore. He gently turned it around. “I’ve been told that when a married woman wears this on her left hand, it means something about two hearts becoming one.”

“Aye,” she answered, her blue eyes meeting his. “It means two loves have been joined.”

“And so it is . . .” He nodded, kissing her cheek. “Sarah, will you do me the honor of becoming forever a part of my heart, never to leave my side?”

He took her hand in his.

“What I’m humbly asking you is . . . will you become my lady and be mine for as long as I breathe?” he asked. “I cannot see my life without you in it, Sarah. You are the bravest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, Please, will you have me?”

“Oh . . . aye,” she answered joyfully.

She raised her face to his and kissed him in a tender, passionate kiss, pledging herself to him. The sound of the sea behind them crashed against the rocks as the sun slowly sank in the horizon. They stood together bathed in the glow of pale hazy light. The ruby stone set in the middle of the ring glowed.

Two hearts had found each other. Two hearts had been joined, never to part. They would truly have a wonderful life together. The captain and his lady. It was meant to be. Sarah cried tears of joy. They were alive and in love. She would travel with him, wherever the winds took them. She would be by his side, helping him in any way she could, his true-life partner and love.

Engaging, romantic frolics are how author, Beverly Adam, describes her Regency Romance series:
Gentlemen of Honor
. The redheaded writer currently resides in California where she revisits history on a regular basis as a romance novelist and biographer.