Prize of My Heart

Lorena’s concern multiplied. “Pray, tell me of this weather we’re having, Mr. Farragut.”


William and his brother drew the damask curtains out of their way, allowing her a clear view of the storm for herself. Below, the ocean rolled white with foam. A greenish-gray sea lashed violently—rising, rising, then curling into a foaming, towering crest that crashed down in an explosion of spray.

Drew gasped in awe. Lorena lifted him off the seat and away from the windows.

“A mighty gale has come upon us, Miss Huntley,” William explained, working quickly with Warrick to close the heavy wooden shutters. “The Yankee Heart rides under close-reefed sails, and the great height of her quarterdeck has been a blessing in breaking the force of the sea. Captain Talvis and Mr. Smith are presently completing a tour of inspection. The captain has asked me to inform you that he has ordered Warrick to remain inside with you and Drew. None of you are to leave the cabins until further notice.”

Off in the starboard horizon a flash of white-hot light appeared just before William secured the last deadlight into place. The shutters were fitted to keep out water and the threat of broken glass, but they also blocked what little daylight shone into the cabin.

Drew shook off Lorena’s embrace to approach the second mate. “But, Mr. Farragut, I must come with you. The captain needs me to help shorten sail—”

The cabin rattled with a deafening boom, cutting him off and startling Lorena, regardless that she’d known thunder was coming.

Lorena felt hard pressed to contain her smile, as it seemed did William. “You heard Mr. Farragut. You’ll not be going anywhere,” she told the boy. “Off to your cabin, Warrick. Quickly now, and change into something dry. Here, Mr. Farragut, allow me to help you close the draperies over these deadlights. Do you think there’s any chance I might be able to speak with Captain Talvis?”

As young Warrick excused himself and made for his cabin, his brother turned to her in earnest. “I cannot go against the captain’s orders and allow you on deck, but I will let him know you have asked for him. Please understand he is quite busy battling this gale and keeping a wary eye out for any shift in weather. And if I may ask, Miss Huntley, please help keep my brother safe indoors. He wants to do his share with the rest of us, but I expect Warrick to follow your direction. He does not look the part, but he has a much determined will.”

Lorena swallowed her disappointment that she’d not be able to see Brogan. “Of course I shall look out for your brother, Mr. Farragut. Is there anything more I can do?”

He scanned the disorder of the great cabin with a thoughtful expression. “Yes, miss. For your safety, extinguish the lanterns. Have Warrick secure all moveable objects by storing them in the lockers under the cushions of the stern window seats. Then wedge yourselves into a place where you shall be less likely to be tossed about. Other than that, there’s nothing more to be done but watch and ride out this gale. Warrick knows where to find a store of ship’s biscuits until the galley fires can be restarted and we’re able to bring you something more to eat.”

William returned to his duties, and Lorena sought out her small companion, who had begun to snoop through the charts and instruments scattered on the carpet. “You heard Mr. Farragut, Drew. Help me get the captain’s things into the storage lockers.”

“Are you scared?” he asked.

It was impossible to ignore the roll and pitch of the ship or dismiss its groans, its strain and labor. “No. Are you?”

Drew shook his head. He’d never admit to feeling frightened if she were not.

His brave front bolstered her confidence. “All shall be well.”

“But when will the captain come?”

“As soon as he can. Once he’s navigated the ship safely through this storm, he’ll come. He’s brought ships through much worse, I’m certain. Now let’s get busy putting the cabin in safe order.”

Warrick appeared in a fresh pair of high-waisted white trousers, an oversized red waistcoat, faded and frayed and quite likely handed down, and a dark navy neckerchief, which Lorena suspected of being the finest article he owned. His brown hair was damp and mussed, she assumed from a hasty towel drying.

He joined them in dousing the lantern flames and securing all loose items. At his suggestion they huddled on the settee together in the dark and gloomy cabin.

Lisa Norato's books