The Island of Love (Camfield Series No. 15) by Barbara Cartland Page B

sailor she saw, he said:
    “Hurry up. Miss! Get into one of the boats as quickly as you can!”
    Lydia walked unsteadily towards the door that led out onto the deck and the moment she stepped out she felt as if the wind swept her off her feet.
    For a moment it was impossible to see anything except the waves that were illuminated by the moonlight, and seemed as they broke over the side of the ship determined to sink her.
    The decks were awash, but now Lydia realised there was a light coming from the ship itself and that it was the light of the flames that had started in the Engine Room.
    As she looked at it holding onto the doorway she saw the Earl coming towards her and realised the boat into which he had put the midshipman was already being lowered down the side of the ship into the sea. He reached her and said sharply:
    “Why did you take so long? You should have gone in that boat!”
    “I am sorry,” Lydia said humbly.
    “There is another one,” he said, “and this time I do not intend you to be left behind.”
    As he spoke he took her arm and led her along the deck to where the sailors were lowering another lifeboat.
    The officer saw them and turned to say:
    “Please hurry, M’Lord. We’re having difficulty in this sea.”
    He spoke quite calmly and the Earl replied:
    “We are doing our best, Officer.”
    As he spoke a wave splashed over the rails and covered both him and Lydia with spray.
    She felt the salt water running down her face, and as it was also in her eyes it was hard to see.
    The Earl dragged her forward and a moment later she was lifted up and placed in the boat.
    She wanted to put out her hands to hold onto him and beg him to come too.
    Then to her relief she heard the officer say:
    “Get in, M’Lord. We cannot take to the boats ourselves until all our passengers are accounted for.” The Earl climbed in sitting down beside Lydia and, as if it were the most natural thing to do, he put his arm around her and held her close to him.
    Then in what seemed to her only a very few seconds the boat was full and lowered into the sea.
    As they reached the water they were soaked by the spray and the boat itself was plunging up and down in what Lydia thought was a terrifying manner.
    Yet because she was beside the Earl and his arm was holding her, she was not really frightened. She knew however, that by this time Heloise would be frantic and was doubtless still screaming.
    The sailors pulled away from the ship, rowing strongly, but at the same time finding it extremely difficult to hold the boat in any degree of steadiness in such a violent sea.
    More and more waves splashed over them, and as Lydia saw one of the seamen start bailing out the water which was rising round their feet the Earl asked:
    “Can you swim?”
    “Yes,” Lydia replied, “but I have never swum in a sea as rough as this.”
    “Let us hope it will not be necessary,” he said in a low voice, “but if we do have to take to the water hold onto me, and I will look after you.”
    It was what she wanted to hear, and it flashed through her mind that if they were drowned together she would not mind because she would not be alone.
    At the same time she wanted to live, and she was sure that the Earl would survive because, as she had thought before, he was always the victor, the conqueror, a man who always won through whatever the odds against him.
    It was impossible to see at all far, for although there was a moon overhead the light from it was intermittent.
    At the same time the wind was so strong that Lydia felt as if as it beat against her face it blew her hair high into the air, and distorted everything.
    The Earl looked back and Lydia also turning her head could now see the ship heaving up and down, the centre of it brilliant with the light from the fire, the flames leaping up against the darkness.
    “How could this have happened?” she asked in a low voice.
    The wind almost swept the words from her lips, but the Earl heard