Swept Away

by Phoebe Conn

  Thinking Molly might not be fair-haired, Eden took the precaution of pulling her hood up over her curls before she knelt at John’s side and took his hand. She was sorry to find him such a young man, no more than twenty at the most. Leaning down, she kissed his brow and whispered, “It’s Molly, John.”

  John tried to smile, and a large tear rolled down his cheek. “Molly, is it really you?”

  “Yes, my darling, it’s me.” Eden reached out to brush a stray curl off his forehead as she imagined the woman he loved would do. He had thick brown curls, and eyes that were more gray than blue. While his features were contorted with pain, she was certain he was usually considered good looking.

  John savored that announcement for nearly a minute before speaking again. “I always wanted to ask you to be my wife.”

  “I’d be proud to be your wife, John. Didn’t you know that?”

  Raven was as touched as the other men crowded into the hold as they listened to Eden respond to John’s halting remarks with such sweet replies it brought tears to their eyes. Her voice was soft, yet filled with affection and they found it difficult to remember she was not really the woman John loved, but instead a wonderfully considerate stranger. The injured man was nearly incoherent now, but he clung to Eden’s hand as his lungs, pierced by his shattered ribs, slowly filled with the blood that would drown him. It was a pitiful sight, and yet none wanted to leave and miss a word of the poignant dialogue taking place.

  When John lapsed into unconsciousness, Raven came forward and laid his hand on his bride’s shoulder. “Come with me. It’s far too cold for you to remain down here any longer.”

  “No, I want to stay with him until the end. Molly wouldn’t leave him alone.”

  When she looked up at Raven, her golden gaze was filled with a haunted light. He could not help but wonder if she wasn’t thinking of Alex and if it wasn’t really Alex she couldn’t bear to leave rather than John. Until that instant he had not realized just how great a favor he had asked but truly she was the last person on board he should have asked to sit with a dying man. He didn’t have the heart to argue with her, and so knelt by her side and waited until John’s heart ceased to beat. Less than an hour had passed since Owen had sent up the cry of alarm, and Raven noted the time so he could make an accurate entry of John’s death in his log.

  The weather began to clear by noon of the following day. Owen had insisted upon being the one to fashion John’s canvas shroud. When it was time for the burial service to begin, he had the fallen mariner’s body ready to be consigned to the depths.

  “Are you certain you feel up to this?” Raven asked Eden considerately. He had again worked until after midnight. The weather had steadily improved during the night, but he had purposely stayed away from his cabin to give Eden time to be alone with her thoughts and memories. She had been sleeping soundly when he had been ready for bed, and while he was disappointed she had not helped him to again undress, he had not awakened her to assist him.

  “Your crew thinks little enough of me as it is, Raven. Surely they’d consider me completely heartless were I to miss John’s funeral.”

  Raven did not want to comment on the crew’s opinions until he had had the opportunity to again observe the men when Eden was on deck. From the comments he had overheard during the night, he had gotten the distinct impression that, after her moving portrayal of Molly, most of the men had reassessed their thinking where she was concerned. If so, he hoped it would be apparent at the service as Eden’s mood had been subdued ever since John’s death and he would welcome any help to cheer her.

  “A burial at sea usually doesn’t consist of much more than a psalm or two and the Lord’s Prayer. It won’t take long.”

  “I hope you’ve not had to do this often.”

  “No, thank God, I haven’t, but I’ve never had a man die of natural causes. All our casualties have been as a result of accidents as stupid as the one that killed John.”

  “What may seem like an accident to you might also be called fate. How else can you explain why one man dies of old age, and another loses his life in his teens?”

  “You’ve given this subject considerable thought?” While Raven wasn’t surprised, he did not think it healthy for her to dwell on such a morbid topic.

  “Well of course, doesn’t everyone? None of us escapes death. Why shouldn’t the subject fascinate us?”

  “You have a point there.”

  Eden smiled, pleased he saw the logic in her comments. She had chosen to wear her gray gown for John’s service, and turned for Raven to help her on with her cloak. While the sky was now clear, the day was still a chilly one and she pulled on a pair of kid gloves before again covering her curls with her hood. Raven was dressed in black, but then he usually was.

  “When we get to Jamaica, could we visit Molly?” Eden asked as she moved toward the door. “I know she’ll be heartbroken to learn of John’s death, but perhaps it will ease her grief to know his last thoughts were of her.”

  Raven swung open the door, but hesitated before moving out of her way. “I hate to disillusion you, but Molly works in a tavern in Kingston, and it’s more than likely that she won’t even remember who John Rawlings was.”

  Disturbed by that news, Eden frowned slightly. “I’d still like to see her. If there’s even the slightest chance that she loved him, we owe it to John to make the effort to contact her.”

  Raven hated to lose a member of his crew and, like his bride, also thought he owed a man who had died on board his ship every courtesy. “If it would please you, we’ll do it,” he promised, but he thought she would change her mind about speaking with Molly once she saw how rowdy a place the Fife and Drum was. The matter settled for the moment, he took her arm as they made their way up on deck.

  Eden stood at Raven’s side as he conducted the burial service. She thought he had a marvelous voice, one perfect for intoning the Scriptures and yet there was nothing theatrical about his delivery. She wished he had taken part in Alex’s funeral now that she knew how beautifully he read Bible verses. Alex had meant far more to him than John, however, and she understood why he had not been able to read for his uncle.

  She didn’t watch as John Rawlings’ body slid from the plank held at the rail and sank beneath the waves. Her mind was too full of another burial to take note of this one. When Max came forward and spoke to her, she jumped in surprise.

  “Lady Clairbourne, we heard what you did for John. You’re a very kind and generous woman. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me and Samuel for what we did?”

  Thinking Raven must have demanded that apology, Eden looked up at her husband, but he appeared to be as surprised as she by Max’s request. Max had seemed sincere in his apology the day he had spilled his bucket; now she knew that had merely been an act. “I will forgive you, but only if you promise not to judge people you do not even know so harshly in the future.”

  Now believing her to be the most gracious of women, Max eagerly made that promise. Embarrassed that he had needed to do so, he hurriedly excused himself and rejoined the crowd of men on deck.

  Not wanting to speak to any of the others, Eden turned toward the rail. She heard several men approach, and Raven’s insistent response that she was not be to disturbed. She didn’t understand the crew’s sudden interest in her, and was not in a mood to be friendly. When Raven put his arm around her shoulder, she needed a moment to find a smile for him.

  “I think you better go below before you become chilled.”

  “I’ve spent too many hours in your cabin the last few days. Please let me stay here awhile longer.”

  “If you wish,” Raven reluctantly agreed, but what he truly wanted to do was take her below and make love to her until the sorrow in her eyes vanished for good. There had been plenty of times when he had gone for more than two days without having a woman, but not making love to Eden for that long was a far more horrible deprivation. A slow smile graced his lips as he began to look forward to nightfal
l.

  When Raven seemed content to remain with her, Eden soon recalled the questions she had wanted to ask him. She had to move close to be heard above the wind that billowed out the sails, but she hoped Raven would give her the answers she felt she needed so badly. “What do you remember of your parents, Raven?”

  Shocked by such an unexpected query, Raven had to swallow hard before he attempted to provide a believable reply. He had known sooner or later she would begin to wonder about his family, and he had promised himself that while he could not possibly reveal the truth and keep her respect, he would not tell her lies either. He leaned against the rail, and tightened his hold on her. “I can’t remember anything about them. It was Alex who raised me, you know that.”

  “You don’t remember your parents at all?”

  Clearly she was disappointed to hear that, but Raven had always considered himself lucky that he didn’t know anything about them since they could not possibly have been an admirable pair. “No, I don’t.”

  Eden had been so certain the secret to his volatile personality had to lie in the way he had seen his parents behave, but she was not easily discouraged and just changed the focus of her questions. “What can you tell me about Alex and Eleanora then? Were they happy? Did they get along well?”

  Raven was far too bright not to understand what had prompted Eden’s curiosity, but he could not think of anything particularly interesting to tell. “Yes, I think they were happy, but they were nothing like you and me. Eleanora was so sweet I don’t think I ever heard her raise her voice with anyone, and I never heard her argue about anything with Alex. Whatever he wanted to do, they did. I was only thirteen when they married, though, so I didn’t pay much attention to them.” That had been the same year he had discovered what made women such a fascinating diversion, but that was another secret he knew better than to reveal.

  Eden was frustrated that her efforts to understand Raven were meeting with no success. Alex had mentioned that Raven had lacked a woman’s influence while young. Raven had told her himself that he had known very few women well, and now she understood why. She was still left with her initial problem, however, that they got along so poorly she did not think their marriage would survive.

  “There’s a lovely painting of Eleanora at the plantation. When you see it, I think you’ll understand what type of woman she was.”

  “I don’t care about Eleanora!” Eden snapped angrily. “She was Alex’s wife, not yours.”

  Not about to get into another argument with her in front of his crew, and especially since he had not the slightest idea why she’d just lost her temper, Raven took Eden’s arm. “Let’s go below.”

  Eden was not angry with him, merely exasperated that her plans to get to know her husband well had not worked. Her lip was no longer swollen, and when she tried to smile, she succeeded. “Yes, maybe we could have tea together.”

  “Tea?” Raven doubted either of them was in the mood to share a soothing cup of tea, but he thought it best not to comment on her suggestion. They had just started across the deck, when Randy approached carrying a spyglass.

  “The lookout’s just spotted smoke on the horizon.” He led them across the deck to the starboard rail, and then handed Raven the small telescope so he could see for himself.

  Other than a cloud of black smoke, Raven could make out nothing. Knowing Eden would expect to have a look, he handed the spyglass to her. “What do you make of it, my dear?”

  Eden knew that endearment was more for Randy’s benefit than hers, but she was too curious about the smoke’s origin to be offended by it. Like Raven, she could see only the smoke, but not its source. “There’s nothing worse than a fire at sea. Hadn’t we better investigate?”

  Raven looked first at Randy, who wore an apprehensive frown, and then explained the situation to her. “The storm blew us way off course, Eden. We’re much farther north than I intended us to be. That doesn’t present much of a problem, but rather than a shipboard fire, it’s far more likely we’ve sighted smoke from cannons.”

  Immediately she thought of the Southern Knight and in an instant Eden’s expression went from one of concern to absolute horror. “All the more reason to get close enough to judge!” she insisted.

  Knowing he would never be able to talk her out of that, Raven shook his head sadly. “We’ll sail only close enough to learn whether it’s a ship in distress due to a fire, or a battle. If it’s the latter, then we’ll not remain to see who wins. Is that clear? This is a British merchant ship, and I’ll not involve her in your country’s Civil War.”

  “Yes, I know, I know. You think the War’s stupid, but while we’re debating the issue, it could be a British ship that’s sinking, and since we’re close enough to render assistance, I think we should ascertain whether or not it’s needed.”

  “My recommendation exactly, Captain,” Randy agreed with an encouraging smile for Eden. Upon learning of how tenderly she had cared for John Rawlings, he had been as deeply impressed as those who had actually witnessed the deed. While he doubted he would ever be able to make up for his previous standoffishness, he was willing to make the attempt.

  “Then set our course accordingly,” Raven ordered. As the mate turned away to do just that, he reached for Eden’s hand and pulled her close. “I meant what I said. I want no part of your War.”

  Eden nodded. “I understand.” She took turns with him using the spyglass, but before anything was clear to the eye, they could hear the boom of what sounded like cannon fire in the distance. “It certainly sounds like a battle, but couldn’t that just be gunpowder exploding?”

  “If that’s the case, we’ll not be likely to find any survivors.”

  Eden held her breath, expecting at any second that Raven would change the ship’s course again and that she would never know what had happened. She was far more concerned they would soon find a Confederate ship sinking, and dreaded that it would be the Southern Knight, than she was a British ship might be on fire, but she dared not speak her fears aloud knowing that Raven would only repeat his opposition to the War in response.

  A sudden shift in the wind allowed Raven a clear view of what had been hidden by the smoke. He recognized the stars and bars of the Confederate flag immediately, and that it flew from the mast of one of the Commerce-Destroyers that had plagued the Union’s merchant fleet to the point of ruin. He handed the spyglass to Eden.

  “I’ve seen enough. It appears that one of your Commerce-Destroyers is actually battling a ship that can defend itself. That must be a novel experience for the captain.”

  Eden ignored her husband’s sarcasm as she strained to make out the ship’s name. Few people had the privilege of viewing a naval battle without having to dodge bullets and she was fascinated by the spectacle. Knowing Raven intended to change course immediately, she reached out to grab his sleeve. “We’ve got to get close enough to read the ship’s name.”

  “That’s completely out of the question,” Raven replied sternly.

  “Oh please, I’ve got to know if it’s my father’s ship. We can’t just sail away not knowing whether or not it’s his.”

  “I intend to do just that.”

  “Raven!”

  Raven began to smile as he realized how much power the chance sighting of the naval battle had given him. Eden was devoted not only to the Confederate cause but to her parents as well, and he was not above using that devotion to further his own aims. “Is that all you want, just to be able to read the ship’s name?”

  “Yes!” Eden insisted, for indeed she was too excited to think past that point.

  “Then we’ll satisfy your curiosity, but I’ll expect you to show your gratitude in a manner I can truly appreciate.”

  Eden considered the sly smirk that graced Raven’s features utterly reprehensible. That she could have become aroused while undressing him now appalled her. “How Alex could have described you as the finest of men I will never understand.”

  “He was prejudiced,” Raven
replied with an even wider grin. “If you’ll find it impossible to reward me for my consideration, then I’ll risk going no closer.”

  As he raised his hand to wave to Randy, Eden gave in. “All right, I’ll give you what you want! You needn’t make threats.” She then turned her attention back to the ships that were firing on each other with what could now be heard as thunderous volleys. With the beauty of a ballet, they fired their cannon as they sailed past each other, and then came about to begin another potential deadly pass. While neither ship had yet inflicted heavy damage on its opponent, when each seemed equally determined to sink the other, it appeared to be only a matter of time before one was successful. As the battle progressed, she was disheartened to see the Confederate ship appeared to be getting the worst of it.

  Eden heard Randy’s voice as he came up to seek new orders, and Raven’s response that he wished to identify the ships. She paid no further attention to the men’s conversation until the Jamaican Wind had drawn close enough to enable her to read the lettering on the Confederate ship’s bow. There was no mistaking the words as they had been deliberately painted large enough to provide not only recognition, but a bold warning. She was the Southern Knight. Eden handed the spyglass to Raven, but as her eyes filled with tears, she could not bear to look up at him.

  Raven had already read the ship’s name in Eden’s crestfallen expression, but the decision he now faced was not nearly as difficult a one as he had anticipated. He knew what he was about to suggest was at least wicked, if not evil, but he wanted Eden too badly to care. Excusing himself to Randy, he took Eden’s arm and moved her a few feet down the rail so they could discuss the situation privately.

  “Neither side in your War can afford to fire on a British ship. We’ll observe awhile longer, and if your father can’t score a victory, or escape harm on his own, I’ll provide him with the opportunity to get away. But I’ll expect something more from you than affection in return.”