The Search

Gregory moved inside to the left of his cabin, looking back at both young ladies. Lily's face still retained its smug look. Arabella's was filled with alarm. Her deep sea-green eyes were huge as she met his. He turned back toward the bed.

It was then that he saw it.

Bloody blazes.

Peeking out from under the bed was a ruffle of a dress, with a petticoat showing underneath.

Unable to believe what he saw, he moved quickly toward the bed, his jaw pulsing with anger. He went and stood in front of the area and faced the rest of the room, trying to make his expression casual.

"Commander," he said in his authoritative tone. "I believe Miss Collingwood would be better satisfied if you were to search the rest of the room. Since she obviously does not trust me."

Earl was bending down, now, to look under the bed. He stood up a moment later, meeting the captain's eyes briefly. A glance of understanding passed between them.

"I'll be glad to, Captain."

Earl moved to the cabinets attached to the wall and opened them, then toward the table. He stared down at it, looking under the chairs. Lily's eyes followed him as he moved about the cabin on the other side. With as little motion as possible, Gregory shoved the material back under the bed with the heel of his boot. Then he glanced at Arabella.

Her eyes dropped. He knew she'd seen.

Finally, the rest of the drawers and cabinets examined, Earl turned to Lily. "Satisfied, Miss Collingwood?" He was quiet a moment then spoke again. "Did you really expect to find stowaways in the captain's cabin?"

Her face fell.

Gregory turned to her. "And now, the commander will see you back to Miss St. John's cabin to right it, as he watches. I'll keep her here until it's done. Good day, Miss Collingwood. I should mention, I have no wish to repeat this scenario again." He nodded to Earl. "When she has finished, Commander, see that Miss Collingwood stays confined to her room until the noon bell has rung."

He watched as she nodded, meekly letting Earl lead her from his cabin and down the corridor. Then, he turned to Arabella, who stood just inside the door, unmoving, and strode toward her.

She was blinking tearfully as he approached, as if she feared what he might do. But he walked past her and closed the door. He moved to stand over her.

"You not only were hiding a stowaway," he growled. "You were hiding her in my cabin? I expect to hear the explanation for this." He took her arm and led her over to the end of his bed. "Sit," he ordered. "While you still can."

"Yes, sir," she whispered.

He leaned down to look under the bed. Huge blue eyes met his, terrified. He reached a hand down toward the beautiful young girl under it and softened his voice. "Come out, young lady, and tell me who you are." When she hesitated, he shook his head. "I'm not going to throw you overboard. I do, however, need a bit of information." He moved his hand closer as she scrambled to her feet and took it, trembling. As he raised her to her feet, he sent her toward to the bed. He motioned for the young girl to sit on the side of the bed and walked toward the back, taking Arabella's arms and sitting her at the end.

For a few moments, he paced between them, staring down at first one, then the other. He was running his hand through his hair. Finally, he stopped in front of the girl, who was obviously of mixed race.

"Your name, young lady? And your age?"

"Chloe, sir," she whispered. "Seventeen."

"How did you get on the ship?"

"I…" she choked out a sob "…I came aboard in a crate."

He nodded, frowning. "I see. Were you alone?"

Arabella's brow knit together. "Please don't frighten her, Captain. She is afraid already—" She halted abruptly at the flash of his eyes.

Gregory turned and walked to the long table, dragging over a chair, and sat down in it in front of Chloe.

"Listen to me, Chloe. Stowaways are in great danger. If they are caught stealing, they can get into a dreadful amount of trouble. And, if they don't, they might die before the voyage is over. It can take as long as fourteen weeks—even longer—to make the trip across the Atlantic. If you don't tell me where and who they are, their lives will be in danger. If you do, we'll go down and talk to them. Are they family?"

"No, sir."

"And how many are there?"

"Eleven. Including me."

"Are they escaped slaves?"

Her head came up. Weeping ensued, and he glanced toward Arabella with pleading eyes.

Bella rose and went to sit by Chloe, putting her arms around her.

"Please, sir," came out between quiet sobs. "Please don't throw them overboard!"

"Stop it, Captain!" Arabella scolded him with a rebuke in her voice. "You're making her cry."

He rose, standing over her. "Arabella? Who is in charge of this ship?"

Her gaze lowered. "You, sir."

"Then I'll thank you to let me handle it." There was a gruffness in his voice she hadn't heard since the day she had boarded the vessel.

He began to pace a bit longer and then sat down in the chair. "Chloe," he said, finally. "Thank you for telling me. Until I speak to them, I can make no promises regarding what I can do, However, I promise that I'll do the best I can by all of you. The first thing we need to work on is finding a place in steerage for them to stay. And get them something decent to eat. The whiskey supply has been dwindling rapidly, and that will make trouble with the crewmen. No, Arabella." He held up a hand. "This is one reason I knew it was not you who was depleting the food supply."

He was silent a moment. "Chloe, tell me who's down there. The commander and I will take you down with us and see what we can figure out. You must understand, however, that I'm limited in my choices. They can't stay in hiding throughout the voyage. They won't survive. I'm sure you realize that."

She nodded.

He reached for her hand. "Wait here, while I check Miss St. John's cabin to make sure it's empty. I'll take you there to wait. He nodded gravely down at Arabella. "Then, I will be back. And you shall wait for me. Here. Is that quite clear?"

She raised her eyes to meet his. "Must I, sir?"

His stare down at her was relentless, his voice forbidding. "I think you know the answer to that."

* * *

The Discipline

The sound of the ocean striking the ship kept Bella company as she sat alone in the captain's quarters. A light scent of the salty sea and clean fresh soap—of Gregory—clung to the air. When she'd slept in the hammock that first night, the scent had comforted her as she drifted off. Had he given her his hammock that night? Now, the same fragrance had her trembling with uncertainty.

He would not throw a woman overboard. Hadn't he promised Chloe as much? But the fate which awaited her might make swimming in the deep ocean seem a better alternative. Her sins were numerous. The lies she told were impossible to keep up with any longer. She had hidden important information from the captain involving the very issue she'd promised herself to help him solve.

Paling, the worst of it occurred to her. Good Lord Almighty, she had gone below again, after he had forbidden her! What was it he had threatened to do if he caught her disobeying? Surely, he would not actually take a strap to her? The very notion made her feel weak.

Bella forced herself to stop quaking. She was a grown woman, capable of facing the repercussions of her own mistakes. Soon, she would be married to a horrible man who pledged himself to two women. She prayed for intervention.

But time for childish fears were over. She would accept any punishment her captain sought to deliver. She would do so with dignity and grace befitting the daughter of a baron. The fact that she would also be the future wife of a man who behaved like a bastard, she ignored.

There would be no begging, whimpering or foolish attempts of explaining her behavior. Had she not promised Chloe she could handle any trouble which arouse when she forced the girl to come to her chambers? As long as Gregory did not seek to punish Chloe, Bella could and would face her fate like a lady.

The moment the cabin door swung open, she threw herself in his arms and started bawling like a child freed from the nursery. "It was my entire fault, sir. Everything. I have let you down in so many ways; I don't understand how you can bear to look at me."

His warm embrace engulfed her for a few minutes before he pulled her away. "Have a seat on the bed, Bella. We're going to have a long discussion, you and I. And when I finish, you'll have no doubt just what I expect of you from now on."

Meekly complying, she bowed her head and listened as he explained what would happen.

"Because you are a lady under my charge, I will address your misdeeds privately. Ordinarily, you would be whipped before the crew for harboring stowaways. And don't even attempt to explain you didn't understand my warnings about going below."

Nodding weakly, she lowered her gaze again.

"I consider myself a fair man, Arabella."

For a moment, she hadn't realized he had addressed her by her name. But the thrill of it was lost in the apprehension of his lecture.

"I believe ten strokes will suffice, he said quietly. "For each offense."

Her head popped up as he passed his sentence, and she gasped.

"Each?" she squeaked in dismay.

He lifted her chin. "For each," he added. "The first ten will be with my hand. The next with my belt. And the third set will be with the strap. I want you to realize how grave your actions have been."

"Couldn't you just toss me overboard and be done with it, sir?" She cringed at the desperation in her own voice. Hadn't she promised to handle this like a lady?

"Stand." His voice was deep. "Go stand by the foot of my bed. Gather up your skirts and lift them out of the way before you lean over to grasp the frame. If they fall during the correction, I will stop and have you remove them completely."

"No! That's scandalous!" she wailed.

"So is harboring a stowaway, Arabella. Don't add more to your tally for stalling."

Stiffening with pride, she stood up and marched to the area he indicated. Pulling up her skirts proved not only embarrassing, but fairly awkward. She dared not let them go too soon, lest she chance them slipping down, causing him to follow through with his promise. Still grasping the material, she bent to grab the frame, her head all but disappearing under the flow of clothing. Her eyes closed as she felt the cool air come in contact with her bottom.

"Well, get on with it, sir." Defiance crept into her voice. "I want to go check on poor Chloe. She must be terrified with concern, now that she's been found."

Behind her, she heard a quiet growl. "I believe, Arabella, that I would lose the defiance, if I were you. But all right. Don't move. I'll be right back."

Bella was quiet during the moment he took to retrieve the strap from the cabinet. But she peeked over her shoulder as he turned back to her. Her eyes widened at the sight of it. A moment later, he was back and standing by her side.

"Brace yourself, Arabella. This will be painful, but it is also necessary. Ships run by a set of rules which were established to keep order and justice in check. The first ten will be given by my hand. While you receive them, I want you to ponder of the severity of your first poor choice. Harboring a stowaway put yourself and others aboard this ship in grave danger. While Chloe appears to be an innocent child, privateers roam these waters. They sometimes have members of their cut-throat groups infiltrate ships like the Charlotte to help bring them to their doom. If you had been a crew member, this punishment would have been public and far worse," he said.

The sound of his hand connecting with her backside registered before the sting of the impact had her wiggling to escape. "Hold your position, young lady, and don't even think about reaching back to halt your punishment."

His iron hand connected time and again with her bottom, making Bella moan with each injustice. But was it an injustice? She thought about what he'd said. The idea of pirates had never crossed her mind. While she was certain Chloe was no pirate, the girl had told her about other men hiding below. What if one of them was evil, looking for a chance to set upon the crew and do them harm? Even Chloe hadn't felt comfortable staying on the same level with them.

She began to let sobs escape, but still, he didn't stop.

She was given a brief rest before the next offense was addressed. "Answer me, Arabella. How many times did I forbid you to go exploring on the lower decks?"

"I don't know, sir," she said, weeping softly.

"It was more than once, wasn't it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Think about what kind of danger you put yourself into, while I begin this next set."

This time, his belt bit into her thighs and bottom as he lectured her about those dangers. Knowing there were strangers down below, he pointed out how nasty things could have become. "Not all men have honor or morals to guide them, young lady. You could have been attacked, taken in the most indecent ways, with no one to protect you."

Never had she feared being raped, but, at his words, she digested the possibility. Chloe had separated herself from the others. Was it for fear they would do her harm? Had she preferred the presence of rodents to the men who were not her family?

Bella felt tears slip through her lashes as she stopped trying to escape the painful blows landing now. Shame filled her. What if she had been attacked? Would her future husband have set her aside, returning her as used goods to her family? He was the man, after all, who had sent for two wives, so he probably would not feel compelled to protect her reputation.

The sound of the leather falling silenced again. She could feel angry red stripes on her backside.

She gasped, as she felt his hand gently smooth over the welts on her bottom.

"Now, we will address the gravest of your insults, Arabella." He paused.

She whimpered. But she knew he could not let her escape his justice.

"You lied to me. Repeatedly," he said in a disappointed tone. "We had already discussed how being less than honest only compounds problems. Instead of learning from that experience, you continued to withhold the truth. When questioned, you gave me falsehoods which could have endangered your life. Such behavior will not go unpunished. As painful as you find the next ten strokes, young lady, consider this. If you are ever caught lying to me again, the punishment will be far more severe. The other thing you need to know is that you lie poorly. I can tell, each time you give me an untruth for an answer."

Each stroke of the strap on her bare flesh made her flinch and cry out. Her breathing became ragged, after the first one. Three more fell at a rapid pace, moving from mid-backside and continuing down in rows which crisscrossed areas already punished.

"Breathe, Arabella."

She couldn't. She had to wait until the pain had eased. While the last ten with the leather belt had seemed harsh, these were delivered with considerably more force. She would feel this chastisement for a long time to come.

Finally, she took a breath, shivering.

"All right. Six more to go."

"Oh, please, sir." She closed her eyes and waited, still feeling the agony of the last welts. "Please don't—" She gasped as two more struck. Yet, this time, Bella remained quiet. She finally was able to accept the consequences of her actions like a lady.

"Before I give you the rest? Tell me why you've been punished today."

A hiccup escaped.

"Because," she uttered a tiny whisper. "I kept a stowaway in my room."

"And?"

"Because I went below deck without permission."

"Yes. And the last?"

She gave a light sob.

"Arabella?"

"Because I lied, sir."

"How many times did you lie?"

Her head raised from the bedding. "I don't know."

He leaned forward. "Look at me."

She turned her head toward him. His face was extremely close to hers.

"See, that's what happens when we lie, young lady. One lie requires another to cover it up, then another, and finally, it becomes hard to remember the truth."

She was weeping openly now. "Oh, sir, I'm so s-sorry."

"The last four will be quite close together and then it will be over. Take a deep breath for me."

Dread overtook her face as she looked up into his. Taking a breath, she closed her eyes and buried her face into the covers. Gregory stepped back.

One lash after the other, quickly, caused her to hold her breath as the feeling set in. When she began to sob, he leaned forward again.

"It's over, Arabella," he said gently. Her skirts and petticoats were gently pulled from her death grip and lowered back in place. Then her captain lifted her up and into his strong arms.

"All is forgiven now. You have accepted your punishment well. The slate is clean. We will never mention this again. Unless…" His face was stern now. "Unless it happens again."

"It will never happen again, sir," she said softly.

"Good girl."

The petticoats under her bottom chafed, but, held in his arms, she was thankful when he rocked her a few moments to allow her to compose herself.

She finally spoke in a whisper, sniffling, "I'm so sorry, sir. I have put you in a dreadful position. How will we ever explain Chloe turning up, after searching the cabins?"

"Shh. I'm thinking about it."

"But—please, sir, we can't send her back down below. I would gladly accept punishment every day in payment for her staying in my room where it's safe."

"Arabella, listen to me. This is my responsibility. I will handle it. You've taken quite a punishment, and it's admirable that you are more worried about Chloe than yourself. You are quite a remarkable young lady. But this is not your decision to make." He held her out from him, and dark brown eyes searched her face. "And the answer to your question is, at the moment, I have no idea what to tell anyone." When her innocent and trusting eyes met his, he added, "And I have a question of my own." He studied her quietly, frowning, before he spoke again.

She waited.

"How?" He asked softly. "How will I ever be able to let you go when we reach New Orleans?"