Chapter 9
Bridget yawned and curled under the blankets, slowly coming to the realization that the ship no longer rocked perilously. She didn’t know how she could have slept at all through such a tempest. She rolled over and found herself facing the reason why she’d been able to sleep so soundly.
Feeling her face begin to burn, she quickly turned away before Rory woke up and saw her distress. She had to remain calm no matter what. No matter that she was now an official adulteress, no matter that she was stark naked and her clothes seemed miles away in the built-in closets. If she tugged off one of the blankets to cover herself, she’d surely wake him and all she wanted was to get out before that happened. She needed to find her equilibrium before she spoke to him again. She had to let him know this had been a terrible mistake and could never happen again.
But why not?
For all she knew she was years from the time Albert was born or years after he’d died, she hoped a miserable, lonely death. Either way, she couldn’t possibly still be married to him.
“Always good with an excuse,” she muttered as she worked up the courage to make a naked dash for the closet.
Even if it was a good idea to continue this mad affair with Rory— and it wasn’t— she knew he’d never want to continue on with her. He’d constantly be trying to get her to return him to his proper time. And the crew! What was she going to do about them? They were ready to kill her and deservedly so. Bloody Albert! If he hadn’t gone missing none of this would have happened.
Her mind going in circles, she finally got out of bed and tiptoed hurriedly to the closet. The door squeaked on its hinges and she heard a rustle behind her.
“That’s a lovely view,” Rory said, voice rough with sleep.
She forced away the tingling feeling it produced and jumped behind the cabinet door. She glared at him but he was looking out the cabin window, a smug and mischievous smile on his face.
“I only meant the cloudless blue sky,” he said. “But hurry and get dressed so we can see where we got tossed. We weren’t so far from land before. Perhaps we can find out what year ye’ve taken us to.”
She scowled. “Put your head under the covers. I dinna trust ye not to peek.”
He hooted with laughter at that and her cheeks burned. Yes, that horse was well out of the barn, but she didn’t care. She was determined to put this episode behind her and never repeat it again. Rory twisted away from the window and she caught a glimpse of his well-muscled back as he pulled the covers over his head. Her resolve wavered and she thought about crawling under there with him. It had been so very long and Rory was so…
She slapped herself and jerked a dress and some underthings out of the closet. Pulling on the clothes, she finally told him he could come out.
“And get out as well,” she said.
Her eyes nearly popped out of her head when he calmly climbed out of bed and stood before her in all his glory. She looked away. Not very fast, but she did manage to turn her head so she could only see him from the corner of her eye. Realizing he had no intention of hurrying to make himself decent, she ran from the room.
“What’s become of me,” she asked herself as she made her way to the deck.
She only slightly feared getting thrown overboard by her crew. She hadn’t liked Rory calling the portal witchcraft, though she supposed it was the truth. At least as much as she knew. It wasn’t something just anyone could do, that was certain. The only good thing about the crew thinking she was some fearsome witch was that she knew she could keep them away with an unintelligible chant and a waggle of her fingers if it came to it.
“Embarrassing,” she mumbled. “As if I would do something like that.”
She carefully slipped along the shiny wet boards to the rail and looked down at the sea as it gently lapped the side of the boat. There was still a hint of mist in the air and the sky wasn’t as cloudless as Rory had reported. A brisk wind twirled her hair and made her dress flap against her legs but the storm had definitely passed.
Ellis scuttled around the the curve of the ship, his eyes wild as he gestured at her. She flung up her hands and waggled her fingers, about to shout some nonsense or other to keep him at bay.
“Lady Bridget, you must see this,” he gasped. “There was a fog until this wind stirred up and now— just come with me.”
He looked too excited to have murder on his mind and he was large enough to heave her overboard himself if he was so inclined, so she figured he wasn’t luring her into a trap. She stopped at the bow and peered around the corner.
“Oi, Franklin,” he yelled to his crew mate, who leaned against the rail with a pair of binoculars glued to his face. “Do you still see it? Ah, you can see it just fine without those things now.” He slapped them away and pointed, motioning urgently for her to join them.
Her curiosity overrode her fear and she hurried forward, skidding to a halt when she saw what had him in such a tizzy. Ellis grabbed her arm to keep her from sliding past them on the slippery deck. He pointed and offered her the binoculars but he was right. She could see it just fine. She grabbed them anyway, trying to make out any details.
“I have to get Rory,” she said, already running back toward her room. “Why have we stopped? Tell the captain full steam.”
They looked at her as if they didn’t understand and she herself didn’t know if she meant ahead or away. As she rounded the corner again, she crashed into Rory and grabbed at his shirt to pull him with her.
“Ye have to see this,” she gasped. “Hurry.”
***
Rory pulled the binoculars from his eyes, then replaced them, still unable to believe what he saw. She was turned so that he couldn’t see the name, but he knew his Anchovy anywhere.
The brave lass listed in the water, the mast that had been broken now completely cracked in two, taking out the crow’s nest on the foremast as it had tumbled. The mizzen still stood but at a terrible angle and what was left of the sails flapped in tatters in the wind. A large hole in the hull was thankfully above the water line, but he could see the ship wouldn’t last much longer. It was a miracle it stayed afloat in such shape as he could see, which made his broken heart soar with hope.
“There must still be men alive,” he said, grabbing the nearest person’s arm.
It was Franklin, the other crew man, who still goggled at his ship as if he’d never seen such a thing before. Which he probably hadn’t considering when he’d been born.
“We’ll be there soon,” Bridget said, also staring at his ship in wonder. “Just a bit longer.”
She gripped the rail as if she was hanging on for his men and his hopeful heart felt something else. Something he pushed away. He’d made enough mistakes for a lifetime in the few days he’d known Bridget but it seemed he wasn’t to be punished for it after all. He meant to show proper gratitude by not screwing up again.
“Are we in your time, then?” Ellis asked.
“Aye, we must be,” Rory said, offering more thanks.
“Unless they went through as well,” Bridget said.
“Dinna douse my hopes,” he said, hopes already doused. He shook his head. “Truly it doesna matter what year it is if my men are all right.”
“What did that?” Franklin asked, taking a turn with the binoculars. “It looks like it was hit with a cannon.”
“Aye, indeed we were. And set afire as well. It’s a miracle the sweet lass is still above water. My crew must be bailing as fast as they can.” He had a sudden thought and grabbed the binoculars from the crew man. “It was pirates who did this. They may still be in the area.” He ran a complete circuit around the boat and didn’t see signs of another ship on any horizon but wasn’t satisfied. “We must rescue the survivors and be off with all haste.”
“But to where? How do we know which direction the pirates went?” Franklin’s voice raised with fear.
That was a good question and one Rory didn’t have an answer for. “Let’s hope my people know,” he said. He patted the rail. “This boat’s the fastest I’ve been on so dinna fret. And also, with the Anchovy in such a state, there’d be no reason for them to linger.” He hoped.
A few more minutes and they’d be close enough to board. The captain blew the horn a few times but Rory couldn’t see any action on the deck. They couldn’t be too late. Why end up so close to his ship only to see there was nothing he could do to help his men?
“Ellis, go find Mary and tell her to get all the medical supplies we have together. Blankets, too. If she squabbles, slap some sense into her,” Bridget barked.
“I couldn’t hit Mary, my lady,” Ellis said. “I heard her crying almost all last night.”
“Then I’ll do it. There’s no time for her tears right now with lives at stake.”
Bridget took off with a determined look on her face but Rory didn’t have time to care about poor Mary and who might smack her. He could almost reach out and touch his ship. A sliver of pain lodged in his chest, knowing she was beyond salvaging, but he still had hope someone might be alive.
The Mer Princess pulled up alongside and Rory had to respect the captain’s skill with the sleek, modern ship. Even with the Anchovy half sunk in the waves, they were still quite a bit below the main deck. There was a sickening sound coming from the Anchovy’s hull, like ghosts groaning within. Rory pushed that thought aside as Franklin ran for some rope. Together they attached a weighty hook to it and heaved it toward the listing ship’s rail until it snagged.
“I’ll go first, sir,” Franklin said and Rory started.
When had he become a sir? Well, he wouldn’t let anyone else be harmed on his watch so he pushed the crew man aside. The hook slipped a little as he put his weight on the rope, but he thought it would hold. He careened the ten or so feet over the water until his feet hit the hull. The side of his ship was slick but he managed to wriggle and heave his way up until he could grab onto the rail and pull himself over. He looked down at Franklin, who returned his triumphant grin.
“I’ll be up in a moment,” he called.
For a second Rory thought they might race away without him, leave him stranded on his sinking ship. But Franklin’s head popped over the rail and with a seasoned air about him, began searching the upper decks.
“Ye’ve had experience with a rescue before, have ye?” Rory called as he poked around the main deck. There was no sign of life and the groaning sound was more pronounced, as if the poor old lass was taking her final gasps.
“Was in the Navy in the war, sir,” Franklin called down. “Er, we had a war not too long ago in our time.” He came back down, shaking his head. “No one up there, just a terrible mess. What kind of ship was it that came after you?”
“A big bloody awful one,” Rory said, looking down into the hold. It was pitch dark and he heard a sloshing sound that froze the blood in his veins. “Real professionals, not like me and my lads.”
“Anything? Anyone?” Bridget asked, coming up behind him and scaring the last bit of his gumption right away. He put a hand over his heart and leaned against the listing wall.
“How did ye get here?” he asked stupidly.
She gave him a look that she agreed it was a stupid question and pointed to the rope. He noticed her skirt was hitched up and tied in a knot between her knees and he had to admit a grudging respect. It hadn’t been easy for him to shimmy up the side of the ship and here she was barely winded and wanting to have a bit of gossip.
“No one,” Rory said, hating the hitch in his voice.
Not as much as the hitch in his heart. He’d well and truly failed his men. Led them into a life of crime and then killed them because of his ineptitude. He should have known not to try and pirate waters that were already governed by someone far stronger, smarter, and meaner than he could ever be.
She shoved past him and sloshed her way down into the hold. Franklin yelped and lunged to grab her but she turned and swatted his hand away.
“Go get some rope and feed it down to me,” she said, already lost in the dark. “I’m a verra good swimmer, so dinna fear.”
Franklin stared down into the blackness and turned to Rory as if to confirm the insane woman had just gone into the flooded hold of a sinking ship. Rory sighed and stepped onto the first stair.
“Go and get the rope as the wee madwoman said. And hurry, as I am not a verra good swimmer at all.”