He turned his attention to the “captain” Tisdale had hired. The man may have had ten years of experience on the water, but from the way he kept adjusting the helm, Stephan doubted much of it had been on a large boat. The constant pushing and pulling on the tiller was causing the bow to waver and the stern to yaw.
Stephan allowed theLadyto fall off the wind a bit since he didn’t want to overtake the other boat. Even though he was flying only one of his jibs, making for easier single-handling, holding a steady course would have him passing the zig-zagging pattern thatSea Masterwas making. Stephan felt sorry that Caroline had to endure that motion, but at least this would be a short sail.
Or so he thought. An hour later,Sea Masterwas still on a heading straight out to sea, and the helmsman showed no indication of turning the boat around. Damn it. Tisdale had no intention of keeping his word. How far were they planning to go?
Stephan looked up at the sky again. Although there were still no clouds overhead, the air was beginning to feel heavy and the mercury in the glass attached to the binnacle was still dropping. Both were indicators of weather changes, but what truly had Stephan growing uneasy was his own instincts. Living on the Kentish coast, he’d grown up with winter storms lashing the shore and whipping waves into a frenzy. Since his brother Devon’s drowning two years ago in a summer squall that had popped up suddenly, Stephan had also developed an unexplainable sense of looming storms even when sea conditions were like they were today. It was almost as though he could smell a static current in the air.
His frustration grew, as an hour later, the captain ofSea Masterstill showed no signs of turning back. In fact, he had tacked to port and was now heading east and away from Brighton. Was Tisdale planning to take Caroline to Beachy Head? The area was rocky and pretty much deserted. IfSea Masterdropped anchor there, Caroline would be at the mercy of the damn earl. Not that Stephan had any intention of letting the man have his way with her. He’d use his pirate skills to grapple Tisdale’s boat and bring his alongside. He would be aboard with the short cutlass his raiders preferred and put an end to this nonsense before either man on the other boat could go below for a weapon.
But perhaps intimidation would work equally well. If Tisdale saw how close Stephan was, perhaps he’d think twice and reverse course. They were still another forty-five minutes from reaching the Point. Stephan drew in on the jib and adjusted his course a few degrees. TheLadyquickened, but not as much as she normally would, close-hauled as she was. He frowned and looked at the triangular weather flag attached to the backstay. The southerly wind had diminished considerably.
In another fifteen minutes, the breeze laid completely, the sea flattening to a mirror finish. Stephan could practically feel the crackle in the air. He grabbed his spyglass to scan the surface. At first, he saw nothing, and then, slowly, a grayish line appeared on the easterly horizon. As he watched, it grew bigger and darker. A minute later, the sea began to ruffle.
“Storm!” Stephan yelled to the captain ofSea Masteras he put the spyglass down. “Squall coming! Reef down!” Even as he said the words, Stephan was already lowering part of the mainsail to make the boat more stable. By the time he’d managed to get the jib secured on deck, the short, choppy waves had grown larger and were crested with white foam. At least, the captain of theSea Masterseemed to have heard him since he was yelling at Tisdale to take the helm while he managed the sails.
Stephan had just released the strap holding the tiller in place and taken a firm grip when the first blast of wind struck, along with slashing, sideways rain.
He hadn’t had time to retrieve his foul-weather gear, and it took only seconds before he was soaked to the skin, his hair matted down. The churning waves had built to several feet, foam spraying off their tops.
He glanced over to theSea Master, now pitching alongside, both their bows lifting high on each swell and then plunging into following troughs. The captain had returned to the helm, and Tisdale was clamoring down the companionway ladder. To Stephan’s horror, Caroline did not follow him, instead clinging to another stanchion.
“Get down below!” Stephan bellowed.
“No!” she shouted back.
Of all the times for her to choose to argue. “Get below!” he yelled again. “Follow the captain’s orders!”
She looked uncertain. The captain had both hands on the tiller trying to hold the boat into the wind, but he gestured with his chin toward the stairs.
“Do it,” Stephan roared. “Now!”
Caroline took hold of a handrail and loosened her grip on the stanchion. As she stepped forward toward the companionway, a rogue wave smashed into the side ofSea Master, causing the boat to roll heavily to port. Caroline’s feet slid out from under her, and she lost her handhold.
For a moment she was airborne, and then she was tossed overboard and into the sea.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Although the water was not chillingly cold, Caroline’s breath left her as she plunged beneath the waves. An involuntary gasp had her swallowing water. Willing herself not to panic, she struggled to break the surface. For a mere second or two she cleared it, able to take a breath before another wave pushed her down. She needed to stay calm.Calm. Reminding herself that thrashing would only exhaust her, she forced her mind to focus. Slow, steady strokes and scissor-kicks were needed to keep her head above water.
Caroline’s arms were working, but her legs were entangled in her skirts, the material made heavier by the leather strip sewn into the hem. Her half boots were not helping, either. She managed to push her face out of the water long enough for another breath before she slipped under again. Holding that breath while sculling with her hands, she was able to kick both boots off, allowing her feet to at least flutter-kick.
She broke the surface once more, trying to determine how close one of the boats was, but with the angry, churning sea and her hair plastered across her face, she could only make out walls of waves and spraying foam. Hysteria threatened to bubble in Caroline’s throat. If she couldn’t see a big object like a boat, how would anyone ever see her flailing in the water? The spencer she wore was gray and her linen shirt beneath it was white. She would fade right into the sea.
“Help! I’m here!” There was no answer, only the sound of crashing waves. Had she even been heard?
Stay calm. She was a strong swimmer, but if the storm had washed her away from both boats, she would never be able to swim the distance to shore. Not in these conditions. They had been several miles out and she didn’t even know what direction the land lay.
She thought she heard her name being called, but it sounded far away.
“Help!” she called again. “Help!” The effort of shouting was taking its toll. She didn’t know if she could continue to shout above the noise of the storm. Her arms were already growing heavy. How long could she last? She had to keep trying.
“Help!”
…
Stephan watched in sheer horror as Caroline catapulted off Tisdale’s boat. For a moment, her body hung suspended in air and then, as if gravity had realized its error, she plummeted like a rock.
It took only seconds for Stephan to loosen the reefed sail’s sheet to have theLadygo dead in the water and to drop the looped end of a coiled rope he always kept secured to the rail over his shoulders, but it seemed like long minutes. The line would serve as a tether to bring him back to the boat. He took another precious second to scan the surface where he thought he’d seen Caroline sink and then he dived in.