Siren Island: Shipwrecked (An Erotic Adventure Series) by Virginia Wade

 
    Chapter One
     
     
    As I clung to the crate, my dress sodden with seawater, lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating a ceiling of ominous clouds. The roiling waves forced me to grip the edges of the wooden crate, the ocean pitching me back and forth, wind and rain lashing my face. I’d kicked off my shoes and my underthings; pantaloons, petticoats, and the crinoline now floated somewhere in the darkness, no longer weighing me down.
    “Lucy!” It was a woman’s voice, my chaperone, Pricilla Mayfair.
    “I’m here!” A wave smacked me in the face.
    I had seen her last on deck, wet and screaming, as the ship had begun to sink, enormous waves crashing into the hull, breaking the mast in two, killing scores of people. Those final moments would live in my nightmares until the day I died. Debris surrounded me along with floating bodies of women, children, and crewmembers. It was heartening to know that my chaperone had survived, but what about my fiancé, Samuel? What about his brother, Jack? I hadn’t seen either of them in those last, horrifying moments. He’d promised to stay with me, but an enormous wave had thrown him overboard.
    I prayed to God the crate remained sound. “Samuel?”
    We were going to be married in Australia where his parents had fled after the war, having lost their plantation and way of life. They escaped the turmoil of reconstruction to take their chances on a continent founded by convicts. None of it mattered now, because we were doomed entirely.
    “Lucy!”
    “Here! I’m here. Follow my voice!” Something dark moved towards me, lifting and falling in the waves. “Pricilla?” My hand encountered a soft object, and I screamed. It was the body of a crewmember, his face eerily white. He sank and drifted away.
    “Where are you?”
    “I’m here!” She was getting closer. “I’m here!” I paddled towards the voice, the water lapping against me, forcing my head under. When I surfaced, I glimpsed my chaperone, clinging to a barrel, horror etched into her face. “Pricilla!”
    “Dear Lord in heaven, child!”
    I grabbed for her, but had to let go for fear of losing my lifeline. “Have you seen Samuel? Jack?”
    “No!”
    “Take my dress. We mustn’t separate.” She clutched the material.
    “Dear Jesus! The saints preserve us. Watch over us in our time of need…save us from the ocean. Please, dear God.”
    “Hang on, Pricilla. Don’t give up!”
    We floated for hours during that dark and stormy night. Splintered pieces of wood and bodies drifted around us. I was terrified of sharks. I had survived the sinking ship, but would I now be eaten alive, plucked out of the ocean by ferocious teeth?
    As Pricilla and I clung together, alternating between weeping and praying, the sky began to lighten and an enormous shape appeared in the distance, rising out of the water. We seemed to be heading towards it, the swells less volatile now, because the storm had passed. My fingers were numb from clinging to the crate, trying to hold on. Pricilla rested her head against her barrel with her eyes closed, her face pale and drained.
    It would be another hour before my feet encountered the sharp ends of a reef, scratching me painfully, rousing me out of a semiconscious state. “Pricilla!”
    “Um? Leave me alone. No don’t…” she mumbled.
    “There’s a beach! I see land!” Excitement renewed me with energy. Sharks wouldn’t eat me after all! The stark light of morning revealed a gray ocean, the storm having churned the contents into a sooty soup. The object I had seen at dawn was now revealed, and mountains covered in vibrant green greeted my grateful eyes. The squawking of seagulls was a welcome sound.
    “Are we dead?”
    “No! Paddle, Pricilla. There’s the shore!”
    I kicked my tired legs, propelling me forward. It was a relief to feel sand beneath my toes. I let go of the crate, walking for the first time in hours, wading through waist deep water. I reached the beach, my