Page 83 of A Foreign Crown
The men nodded, and Layton was reminded again how much he valued his loyal crew.
“And I will add, this passenger holds a special importance... to me.”
The men’s eyes sharpened, but none said a word.
“If the English are wise, they could be flying any flag. We must be on the lookout for any unknown ships in our waters, as I’m sure every privateer and French vessel will be as well.” He dismissed his men and began pacing out his energy before he turned reckless.
They sailed for a day before seeing any sign of another ship. His eye grew weary and his head sore from constant searching of the horizon with a spyglass.
Aribella stood on deck. The wind loosened the pins in her hair, and soon her tresses were billowing all around her. She rested her hands at the railing and smiled at the water that stretched out in front of her. She’d spent most of the voyage vacillating between panic and hope. Would Layton want to pursue something with her? They’d had many good moments, some very important talks, and wonderful kisses, but... none of those things meant he wanted to share his royal title with her. Or his life or family. She sighed and gripped the railing tighter. Was she bound for Bedlam, desperate, in her newly orphaned life, to cling to someone she knew?
Three deep breaths later, she reminded herself that her father had supported the journey, that he was friends with the family. If nothing were to happen with Prince Layton, she was, at the least, visiting family friends. She adjusted her sleeves and welcomed the deep blacks and grays of mourning, because she felt closer to her father. With honor, she had collected a few pieces of clothing and added her mother’s mourning dresses. Thankfully, His Grace had acquired a cabin on the ship for her journey, and though it was small, her things fit nicely.
A ship came into view on the horizon. Aribella wished for a spyglass. Just the sight of another vessel on the water made her breath catch and her heart race. The barrelman trained his glass on the vessel. He was too far away for Aribella to see his expression, but she studied him, waiting.
When he lowered his glass and turned another direction, she exhaled in relief. Whose was this other ship? It came from the direction she was heading. Perhaps an ally? Obviously someone neutral. She and the retired naval officer traveled with another ship. The captain had explained that perhaps two together would deter any would-be pirates or privateers or even the French navy. Aribella found it interesting that they would raise and lower different flags, depending on their location. For a while, they’d even flown a French flag, which she found somewhat traitorous, but she’d said nothing. As soon as they’d approached Spanish waters, their merchant flag had gone up.
So far, they’d had no trouble. But every approaching ship filled her with trepidation. The captain had ordered her and the other traveling women to their cabins when they’d passed other vessels, but he hadn’t yet given such an order today. She watched as the other ship approached, wondering who this potential ally could be.
The alarms sounded, and the barrelman shouted, pointing in the opposite direction of the incoming ship. Aribella ran toward the opposite railing, but the captain stopped her. “Get below. The other ship isn’t friendly.”
She gasped, craning her neck to see the masts approaching. She’d been so intent on the first ship, she’d missed another threat. “Who is it?”
“Hard to say. They’re requesting to come aboard.”
“What will we do?”
“You will please get to your quarters, my lady.”
The barrelman shouted, “We’ve got Oldenburg colors coming!” He pointed to the first ship.
“Bless them.” The captain wiped his brow.
A deckhand held his arm out and assisted Aribella below. A ship from Oldenburg? And possibly a pirate ship on the other side? Aribella stiffened. “Will we be all right?”
“I’d imagine so.” The deckhand nodded. “The captain won’t be too pleased when they take from our stores, but we kept most of it in hiding, didn’t we? They’ve got a lot of nerve to approach our fleet.”
“I see.” She swallowed.
“Just to be safe, it’s best you stay locked in your quarters, especially if you hear sounds of people coming aboard. The captain will let you know when it’s safe to exit.”
“I understand.” She stepped inside the small wood-walled room that had been her home on the voyage. When the door closed, she latched it and then moved to the tiny porthole window. From her side, she could see the ship they hoped was friendly. It was close enough for her to see the flag. The Oldenburg colors were a deep red and gold. The center of the flag had an animal of some kind in a circle. The ship was brilliant, clean, tall. The sales billowed out in a beautiful arc.
Then the sound of ship guns shook the air. She screamed and held her hands to her ears. Responding guns on the opposite side of her ship sounded. Aribella gathered some of her things into a satchel. Anything she couldn’t live without she put in the bag that would go over her arm. Then she moved back to her porthole window, ready to run or escape or whatever might be necessary.
The Oldenburg ship drew closer—so close that soon she was studying the wood on the side of their ship. Men ran around on deck, and a plank was prepared to cross over onto her ship. Men shouted to one another, and then Aribella choked on a gasp. Layton stood on deck. The wind blew his hair. His jacket tails fluttered behind him. He called orders to his crew, his broad shoulders filling the space near him. He emanated power and an intensity she’d never seen in him before. Soon their ships were close enough that the plank was lowered, and men ran to board her ship. Layton called to his men, waving them forward, and it seemed to Aribella that everyone worked in synchronization.
And then his gaze caught hers. Or she felt it did. Because there really wasn’t any way he could see into her window, but he stopped his movement and seemed to stare right at her. Then he adjusted his shirt, unsheathed a sword, and ran across the plank.
Aribella felt her heart hammer in her chest. Layton. She wanted to go to him, but she mustn’t. What was happening up on deck? She hadn’t heard further guns. Feet pounded on deck. Shouting without clear words made its way to her cabin. Possibly the sharp sounds of swords clashing made her clench her hands together. Did Layton know she was on board? How could he? She longed to go to him. Perhaps if she just peeked out her doorway...
She put her ear to the thick wood of her door and heard no sound. With trembling fingers, she unlatched her lock and cracked open the door. Everything had gone quiet. What did that mean? She lifted the satchel onto her shoulder and creeped out into the darkened space. She moved to the door that exited out onto the deck. As she approached, new sounds reached her. The sounds of feet and—she strained to hear, approaching closer to the door—more swords clashing. She sucked in her breath and wanted to back away into her room again, but she had to know. Who was fighting? Who was winning? And was Layton well? She cursed her inability to help. What did she know of swords and fighting?
She held her breath and inched closer to the door. A small crack so she could see would surely do no harm. But the sound intensified. And then she heard a voice, loud, barreling, commanding. “Desist at once!” Layton. The power in his words made her stand taller.
She placed her ear to the wood.
“You have no business here.” Layton’s voice was quieter but no less awe-inspiring. “You will leave this ship this instant, or we will fight until you do.”
