Page 10 of A Countess Captured for the Captain
“It is Captain Nox, let me in, I need to get you to safety below deck,” Nox called out.
Samantha almost fell over as she struggled to the cabin door. The ship was being battered on all sides, the waves rising in great banks, and Samantha felt quite sick as she wrenched open the door to find Captain Nox standing with an oil lamp, dressed in a great overcoat.
“Is it not safer here?” she asked, as pulled her out into the storm, wrapping a cloak around her and urging her to follow him.
“If the mast comes down, it may break straight into the cabin. It is far safer below deck. Do not worry, I will keep you safe,” he said, just as a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky.
For a moment it illuminated his face, and Samantha could see the genuine concern in his eyes, before they were plunged back into darkness, the rain lashing down around them. There was no time to argue, and she followed him to a trapdoor at the center of the deck, through which he helped her climb, descending a ladder to the lower deck, where at last the howls of the wind grew distant.
“Goodness me, what a terrible storm,” she exclaimed, and he smiled at her and shook his head.
“It is only a child, I have sailed storms which rose the seas to the heights of a mountain before dashing them down at such a pace as you have never known,” he said, pointing to a hammock where she might rest.
“But you forget, I am not used to such things,” she replied, and he laughed.
“If you wish to sail with us, then you shall have to be. I have never heard of a stowaway who was seasick,” he said, laughing again.
Samantha felt indignant. She did not wish to appear feeble, though she could not help but be grateful to him for bringing her to shelter, and despite everything, she rather liked him. He was like no other man she had ever encountered – a far cry from the sort of gentleman her father had so often insisted upon introducing her to.
“I am sure I shall grow used to it, I shall have to,” she replied.
He stayed with her for the rest of the night, sitting on an upturned barrel, while she lay in the hammock, unable to sleep for the rocking of the ship which eventually subsided, the storm having blown itself out.
“You can go back to the cabin now,” he said, as a shout came from up above that the seas had calmed.
Samantha was grateful, though she was quite exhausted and yawned, struggling to climb out of the hammock, into which she seemed to have folded herself quite spectacularly.
“Is there a right way to go about this?” she asked, and he laughed.
“Yes, and you are doing entirely the opposite,” he said, and with a deft movement he took hold of her legs and swung her to the right, so that she slipped out of the hammock and straight into his arms.
“Goodness,” she exclaimed, as he grinned at her, and she dusted herself down, blushing at having shared an unintended embrace.
“Now you will know,” he said, and he led her up the ladder and onto the deck.
It was still dark, and he escorted her back to the cabin, bidding her goodnight for the second time. Samantha locked the door behind her, but she could not help but have some admiration for Captain Nox, not to mention a slight enjoyment at finding herself in his arms–
* * *
Samantha awoke with a start, a sharp rapping coming from the door of the cabin. For a moment, she thought she was still in the crate, the alcove into which the bed was built, not much higher than her wooden hiding place had been. But as her memories of the previous day and night returned, she remembered the strange set of circumstances which had led to her awaking in the cabin of Captain Nox. Sunlight was streaming through the window, the storm long forgotten, the ship banking upon a wave which sent the ship rising and falling, as she struggled to her feet.
“Lady Samantha, I must insist you open the door,” Nox called out, and she hurried to open it, looking cautiously out, as the captain smiled at her.
“I am here,” she said, blinking sleepily at him.
“I let you sleep a while; you must have been tired after your night in the hammock. There is some oatmeal to break your fast with, or perhaps some cured sausage,” he said, pointing to where the ship’s cook was distributing rations down on the deck below.
“I feel quite ill,” she said, the rhythmic rocking of the ship churning her stomach and making her feel quite giddy.
She had not felt so queasy on the voyage out, for the merchant’s ship sat lower in the water, and they had not encountered such steep banks of waves and violent currents. ButThe Rosa Mysticawas an old ship and had seen many voyages. She needed repair. One of her masts stuck at an odd angle and bow broken. The waves tossed her up and down, and Samantha held tightly to the door frame, clutching at her stomach, as Nox smiled.
“We are passing across strong currents, I am sure they will grow less. Come and sit with me on the top deck, you shall see nothing but ocean on every side,” he said, offering her his hand.
Samantha was unsure whether or not the invitation was a welcome one. The thought of seeing no land on either side was quite disconcerting and was a view she had tried to avoid on her journey across the Atlantic. On the merchant’s ship, she had spent her time below deck, reading from the books which the captain lent her, or writing in a journal which was now lost at the bottom of the ocean.
“I hope I did not deprive you of sleep,” she asked, as they sat together on the deck a moment later, Nox having helped her up the steps, steadying her as she went.
“Not at all, though I would have been comfier at your side,” he replied, raising his eyebrows suggestively.
